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#like… yeah dick isn’t the main character but i was at least expecting him to be the focus of his own arc

cyncerity · 3 months

Note

Okay, okay- random question, but. What are some theories you have expected for season 2 of Hazbin Hotel?

THIS POST CONTAINS HAZBIN S1 SPOILERS SO SCROLL IF YOU HAVENT FINISHED IT YET

ok ok so first thank you for asking a furlong my hazbin hyperfixation

second: i don’t know if i have any real theories?? I was kinda on a roll with them in S1, i’ve whole heartedly believed Vaggie was an angel since the pilot and when my friend and I sat down to watch the last two episodes i told her “if anyone is gonna die it’ll be Sir Pentious cause he’s kinda completed his arc (destroying the hotel -> protecting it) plus if they kill him they don’t have to get rid of a voice actor cause Alex Brightman also voices Adam.”

At first I and my friend were very upset that I was right, but then they killed Adam and I didn’t believe it. Like, c’mon, Vivzie is obviously friends with Alex enough to have him in both of her Hellaverse shows and to follow all of his broadway shows on Insta (found that out while looking for the character’s insta handles). But then they redeemed Sir Pentious (whoever first called him “Repentious” i love you) and i was like “oh yeah ok that makes sense.” I was also banking on Angel getting redeemed, but it makes sense for that to happen way later given that he’s a more prominent character.

Anyway S2 predictions:

Firstly, i think Pentious is gone have a bigger role. I personally base a lot of my headcanons on irl things, and Vivzie loves Alex too much to let him sit on the sidelines. I mean, cmon, Pentious, Adam, and Fizzarolli combined sing (or at least sing in) 8 songs. The only character that compares to that is Charlie, who also has 8, but she’s the main character. Fizz sings more than anyone else in Helluva (he’s 5 of those 8 songs) and he’s definitely not a main character. So yeah, more Pentious. And i honestly want that so much cause his thing with Cherri was cute for the two episodes it existed and i love naga designs and autism coded characters so he’s always been one of my faves.

As for Cherri, she’s probably my second fav from the pilot, so seeing her sing with everyone else at the finale was awesome. I want to see more of her so bad and i love her Aussie accent a lot. Unfortunately, i predict that she’s not going to care that much over Pentious. Maybe Pentious is gonna be freaking out in heaven over her, but besides her one “that’s hot” line, she definitely could tell he liked her but never cared. i don’t think we’ll get much of her in hell going “oh i miss Pentious so much i should’ve given him a chance.” That ship was written purely so they could have that kissing with the explosion in the background shot and you know what? I’m ok with that, it was cute and funny, it gave us a great shot, and that’s all it needed to be.

Also it gave me one of my fav moments in the finale that no one else seems to care about, which is Angel seeing how pathetic Pentious is and trying to wingman for him. Honestly to me it never really felt like Pentious made super great friends with anyone at the hotel. I get that they didn’t need to all be super close, the fact that they were all just speaking without animosity to him was enough given that he never had friends, but seeing that group pick with him on Angel’s door just didn’t do anything. I just figured they decided to imply that Angel and Pentious were friends off screen, and i was kinda just like “ok that sucks but whatever.” Then there was the “two dicks” scene and anything I doubted about their friendship went out the window. Cause yeah, Angel isn’t a super flashy “let’s hang out and talk a bunch and blah blah blah” kinda friend, he shows his friendship by having someone else’s back. He shows his friendship through actions; staying at the hotel when Vaggie says they should leave, fighting with Husk outside the bar and with Cherri in the pilot, playing along in Charlie’s drug skit with Pentious (Charlie was fucked for that, by the way), keeping Nifty safe from Valentino. Angel shows, he doesn’t tell. The fact that he went up to his bestie and, without Pentious asking him to or even knowing he was doing it, starting trying to convince her to give it a shot. Angel knows Cherri better than Pentious does, he knows what to say to get her interested. This is one of the outright nicest things Angel does for anyone in the series, and it made me believe in his and Pentious’s friendship instantly.

Anyway, sorry for that rant, i just love that scene a lot. Now, next prediction: the V’s are the next big bads. Or at least, the co-big bads. I think near the beginning of the season, they’ll be the no. 1 issue and by the end the show will have forgotten them again in favor of Lute and whatever’s going on with Lilith. Idk if Lilith will be a bad guy, i don’t wanna place bets on that yet (I really hope she isn’t tho, it’d be so cliche and we already have enough bad guys). Unless the shows pacing is as bad as it was this season, then the V’s will be important for like 1 or 2 episodes then disappear. Idk if they’ll cover Alastor’s deal here more, and how it probably almost definitely connects to Lilith, but there’s already 100 people posting in depth theories on them and i don’t really care so it’s not my place. I’m here for the Aroace rep and to watch Alastor be silly.

Another! this isn’t really a prediction, just something i want to happen but logically i know it won’t: I want Sir Pentious and Molly to meet, if only for a second. Even if it’s just a gag of Pentious seeing her and pausing for a few moments as to why she looks so familiar, I want someone to acknowledge Molly being in heaven. Even better, have Emily notice Molly. Have Emily notice that one of Heaven’s denizens looks like the demon she saw on trial, leading Emily to question Molly leading to the reveal that they’re twins, and Molly explaining that Angel, or Anthony, doesn’t deserve hell and is a good person. I need this.

Lastly, i want more Rosie (she won me over with the “Ace in the Hole” joke immediately), and Lucifer, but maybe Arackness (Angel’s brother, i can’t spell) and definitely Baxter. We saw them for like one shot in the finale, so Viv hasn’t forgotten about them. We know Viv had plans for Baxter at least and I love his design, I want more of him. With Pentious out of hell, we need a new deranged scientist. Maybe he can also be voiced by Alex Brightman.

anyway that’s about it, i have a lot of thoughts about this show and only a few theories, so thank you for reading!!

#cyncerity #not g/t #hazbin hotel #hazbin spoilers #sir pentious #cherri bomb #vivziepop #hellaverse #hazbin theory

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oldmemoria · 7 months

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God finally I finished the 1992 Spider-Man 2099 comics—

SPOILER WARNING BTW IM JUST SPITTING OUT MY THOUGHTS RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW GET OUT IF YOU DONT WANT THE COMICS SPOILED FOR YOU PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Overall, writing wise I liked it. Most of it, at least. I wasn’t a huge fan of the art style at some points but that’s just personal preference, I guess. I know how much work and how little time goes into comics so that is just a tiny thing to me. Biggest complaint about the art style was how the women were drawn. Uh…. Yeah, it was the 90s. I’m not shocked we’ve barely grown and it’s 2023. Side note but this comic really did predict some modern stuff didn’t it /hj

The downsides…. Oh boy. I don’t like how most of the female characters were relegated to the damsel in destress or…. Miguel lover. Ig??

Conchata was sort of out of the ordinary with that and that’s why I liked her (Xina too, both of their personalities stuck out to me and I liked them. Xina sort of reminded me of Red from TLOTFK National Anthem for some reason) but I mean… she was the main characters mom. Kinda makes sense that she’d go against the grain

That and the representation of Mexican culture.. my god did I hate it. As a Latino, specifically as someone who is Mexican, I was not a fan of how Day of the Dead was portrayed specifically. It isn’t just Mexican Halloween. But in the comic… yeah that’s what I got from it and I think if a kid who didn’t really know what that is might end up being ill informed but just— they should have done more research. That’s all I’ll say.

I can give them a little leeway and say “oh it was the 90s”. So I will. It was the 90s. What am I gonna expect from a comic book in the 90s. This was actually pretty progressive for the time so why am I complaining 💀

Oddly enough though, I did enjoy the representation of suicidal tendencies and ideation from Miguel. You don’t see that a lot. At least not in the way this was depicted and from what I’ve seen. It was relatable. Every time he got into a near death situation he still fought through it and didn’t give up. Which like, yeah, I wouldn’t want to be killed by some guy with wings or drown because fish man or something, but as he spirals I feel like it was depicted well. He knew that he couldn’t take his own life because not only did he have a job to do (save the city, work at alchemax) but also he found that other people did end up caring about him. At some points that didn’t matter to him, sometimes it did. It’s a fucking roller coaster, realistically.

With the scene right after the reveal of Tyler stone, Miguel’s really awful boss who groomed him into his position at alchemax, being Miguel’s father. We see a shot of either Miguel attempting or thinking of killing himself. Personally I interpreted it as an attempt. Felt like it was a spur in the moment kind of thing, which is realistic, as far as I know. Reading his dialogue and thoughts just felt real. It felt like someone was maybe directly talking to me about their thoughts or that i was reading someone’s journal. There was no filter. Miguel has no filter. I fucking love him for that.

Everyone in the story was just kind of an asshole in some way. There was no morally good or morally evil. I’d say everyone in some way was morally grey.

Miguel is kind of a dick, but he cares about the people around him even though he may not properly show it (whether or not that’s because of trauma or, in my personal interpretation, him being possibly autistic is up to you. I think it’s a little bit of both). He feels guilt when he hurts people, when he kills others, on accident mind you, but he does. He shuts down. He trails off. He’s not evil or malicious, he’s just very very emotionally damaged. Which by all means isn’t an excuse for how he treats some of the people in his life throughout the comics but they serve as a good explanation.

Dana generally seemed to… kind of care? She did sleep around and was bouncing between literally all 3 of the OHaras (Miguel her fiance, Gabriel her brother-in-law, and Tyler her father-in-law), but she also treated them more like trophies than anything. We didn’t see a lot of her backstory or motivations because she really just… was only there when the plot needed to mention “oh by the way Miguel’s fiance cheats on him”. I wish we got to see more of her, tbh. I wanted to see her line of thinking (maybe I will once I eventually reread but rn my brain feels like it’s about to explode and I need to eat something before it does. T minus 8 minutes /ref)

Gabriel. Just Gabriel. I do not have the right words to unpack him. Holy fuck.

Xina was a bit of a hothead, ig? She bounced off of Miguel’s character pretty well because she directly went against him. Not like she was a villain at any point but she did end up being at odds with him at some point, so.. she does, however, still care about other people and just like Miguel she feels so much regret about the past. I’d argue everyone in this story just kind of sits in a puddle of “oh god this unending agony”. I’m happy she seemed to be blazing her own trail at the end of the comic. Cool of her. Very cool.

Tyler…. Yeah I didn’t like him and technically speaking he is a villain, but he wasn’t entirely evil apparently, he liked Dana. Even though i don’t believe him. He’s a greedy shit who basically only values his role in a billion dollar company so uh.. fuck him. He’s not cool. I wouldn’t say he’s morally grey but if we take his word at face value he can feel love. I guess. But I don’t think he does. Nuh uh, Tyler Stone, Nuh uh.

Lyla was great. I love her. She’s funny, witty, her timing is great, she’s fucking insane sometimes but yknow what that’s fine. I saw a post describing her as “the weird fairy that haunts Miguel” (paraphrasing) and I cannot help but see her that way from now on. Especially movie Lyla. Because she’s just FUNNY in both and she’s so much fun I wish there was more of her in the comic and I WISH WE HAD MORE OF THAYT RANDOM PUNK VARIANT OF HER WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT—

Overall, I found the comics charming regardless of my few critiques. It was written well to reflect that not everyone is picture perfect, everyone is just a bit cynical, and relationships are rocky sometimes. Especially if trauma and literal actual grooming is involved. Also I smiled and cheered a little bit when Tyler stone died and when alchemax fucking exploded.

That was great

(Sorry if this was a little incoherent like I mentioned before my brain hurts and I’d probably have to reread over and over to get my full analysis, this is just my final thoughts after my first full read through)

Will I read the other Spider-Man 2099 comics?

#atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #comic miguel #spider man 2099 #spiderverse #miguel spiderman #i want to consume goldfish hhggrgrjrkwiflal

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hintofelation99 · 3 years

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Batfamily sorted into Hogwarts houses?

Ooohhhh a classic, I love it! Tbh I have no clue how controversial my opinions are here, like honestly each member fits several houses well. So I just went with what felt best to me, but I'd love to hear other's opinions!

First let's go over the main traits of each house, these are the traits I will be focusing on.

Gryffindor -> Bravery, daring, nerve, and confidence

Hufflepuff -> Hard work, dedication, patience, loyalty, and fair play

Ravenclaw -> Intelligence, knowledge, curiosity, creativity, and wit

Slytherin -> Ambition, leadership, determination, cunning, and resourcefulness

Bruce

-> Hufflepuff: I feel like this one will be rather controversial and honestly it was pretty difficult to decide on. But I think his overall dedication to the mission is what sold it for me. Like that's one of his more consistent character traits, he values the mission above all else. And I don't think of that value or dedication as coming from a place of ambition, but rather a place of loyalty. Honestly Batman's relationship with Gotham really exemplifies both patience and dedication, at least it does in my mind. Hufflepuff is also sometimes thought of as the house that accepts all, so people who don't have a good designation can go there, which is pretty on point with Bruce adopting a shit ton of kids.

Dick

-> Gryffindor: This one might be a tad cliche, but I think that it fits. Because all of the batfam is daring and brave, but Dick takes so much joy from these traits. He’s known for defying gravity and having fun doing it. He’s also the typical confident older brother, like he definitely has insecurities but overall he’s a pretty confident guy. He’s a leader who paved the way for Robins and continues to protect the rights of young heroes. He’s known for being super protective of his family and is willing to make sacrifices for them. Also he brave enough to design a custom that had no pants and confident enough to run around in that costume.

Babs

-> Ravenclaw: Babs the oracle, she’s basically the definition of knowledge. She definitely exemplifies other houses as well but her dedication to knowledge and intelligence definitely put her in Ravenclaw for me. After being paralyzed a lot of people thought she would give up being a vigilante, but instead she turned information into a weapon and a shield. Instead of giving up she created a new and now invaluable position. She isn’t just smart, she’s clever and quick thinking, always ready for any situation.

Jason

-> Hufflepuff: Okay, so in a lot of ways Jason mirrors Bruce. He’s incredibly loyal to his home, has strict rules that he (mostly) stands by like don’t hurt kids and no abusers get no mercy (and yes I’m using the terms rules loosely here). But honestly what sold the whole ‘Jason is hufflepuff’ thing for me is how protective/kind his is of crime victims, specifically women and children. He was a crime lord who fought to for kids, who didn't tolerate abuse, and who protected prostitutes. And yeah that's all super brave and very Gryffindor-esque, but in my mind it all comes from a place of genuine kindness, and that's what makes him a Hufflepuff to me.

Cass

-> Hufflepuff: Cass is deadly, she could snap just about anyone like a twig, but she's also a complete cinnamon roll. She's a sweetheart who adores her family and, for the most part, likes people. Cass is kind and sweet and she literally booped Batman on the nose. Like if that isn't the most Hufflepuff thing, than I don't know what is. She's just the epitome of 'soft cute Hufflepuff,' but also never forget that she can easily kill you.

Tim

-> Ravenclaw: In my opinion (and I think also canonically but I'm not 100% on that) Tim is the smartest bat. Tim literally outsmarted Ra's Al Ghul and he figured out Batman's identity when he was just a child. And he's not just 'I know a lot of things' smart, he's cunning and knows how to plan for any outcome, how to out wit others, how to lie to Batman. Like in the Red Robin arc his Tim's side quest is outsmarting the league of assassins and pissing off Ras Al Ghul. That's such a Ravenclaw (and baller) move.

Steph

-> Gryffindor: Steph had the nerve to put on a purple suit, she was daring enough to hit Robin with a brick, and she was brave enough to become Batgirl even after her encounter with Black Mask. She's bold and shameless in all the best ways. Like Steph isn't the greatest fighter or most skilled bat, but she's bold and fearless and that's what makes her such a great hero.

Duke

-> Slytherin: This one took me forever to decide on, but I realized that Duke has all the smarts of a Ravenclaw and all the bravery of a Gryffindor. Traits that both fit perfectly into Slytherin. He's cunning and smart and an amazing leader and so determined. Duke lead the 'We Are Robin' movement and made his life goal to out riddle the Riddler. Honestly he's the perfect mix of smart and brave and really exemplefies the best of the Slytherin traits.

Damian

-> Slytherin: This one is a bit lack luster and a bit typical, but I do think it's fitting. He's cunning and ambitious and really values his heritage. Damian knows his life goals, he knows where his heritage can take him, and he will do anything to reach his full potential. And I do think that he has some Hufflepuff undertones, undertones that come out even more around animals and Jon, but overall he is a Slytherin.

And wowie, I'm done. This took waaayyyyyy longer than expected, so sorry for that. Honestly when I saw this ask I was like 'oh, cool, easy!' then I tried to answer and holy shit. I went back and forth so much and could not decide. So after many days and much thought this is what I ended up with. That being said I did really love this ask bc it was super fun.

Also srry if there are any typos but if I keep trying to edit this I will never finish bc I will keep changing my mind.

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romanianwilkinson · 3 years

Text

MONSTER CAMP QUOTES STARTERS

A collection of sentence starters from the game Monster Camp. Feel free to change words and pronouns as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Monster Prom/Monster Camp spoilers, suggestive, cursing, crude content

“ I just have it here because [NAME] insisted that I offer it, as a marketing stunt. ”

“ And lastly, super-horny-type players no longer get a charm buff against tsundere types! ”

“ War machines don’t turn me on or anything! ”

“ I don’t wanna be weird, but do you mind if I climb inside of you and play around with your main turret? ”

“ A wine to DIE for, you say? Well, darling, don’t threaten me with a good time! ”

“ This one just says ‘ hmu with that reaper dick, daddy ’. ”

“ You on your phone, as always! Probably making blogposts on your Tik Tok page. ”

“ Yeah, you really don’t want to witness a repeat of the last time [NAME]’s diehard fans went without a selfie for fifteen minutes. My tailbone still hasn’t completely healed. ”

“ Now hold still, this will only hurt for a moment --- ”

“ Yay! You found a shenanigan! ”

“ My poems all have two or three emotions in them, AT LEAST. ”

“ CRYING IS OBVIOUSLY A COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN SQUEEZE THE MOST WATER OUT OF THEIR EYES! ”

“ No way, really? The way to WIN at poetry is by LOSING at life? ”

“ I dunno, maybe fall in love with someone who’s married and develop an opioid addiction? ”

“ HELL YEAH, SPEEDRUN! ”

“ It’s morbid, but... kind of romantic? ”

“ GASP! Google+? Are you kidding me? The psychopaths behind that global tragedy are here?! ”

“ Prison has changed me, [NAME]. Would you like to trade me some cigarettes in exchange for my fundamental dignity? ”

“ Undermining the laws of reality, subverting life and death, that’s the kind of stuff my followers expect. But CHEATING? No way. ”

“ Though we are imprisoned in chalk jail, we are free in our hearts. But our hearts are also imprisoned in chalk jail. ”

“ Um, no, I am NOT groveling. I am posing a dignified query to [NAME] that just so happens to be performed on my hands and knees. ”

“ I didn’t know you condoned playing the friend card to get free labor, [NAME]. ”

“ Ah, but saving the world doesn’t put avocado toast on the table. We indie seancers and necromancers need to pay our rent too, you know. ”

“ And as you know, I am illustriously Internet-famous, so if you could shower me with adoration and give me the pizza that would be fabulous. ”

“ Do you wanna fuck the pizza or not? ”

“ Are you ready to go swimming? I must admit, darling, I’ve always wondered what you would look like while... wet.”

“ Did you turn this date into an orgy without consulting me? ”

“ Gosh, I love it when you insult me! Please do it more! ”

“ Now who wants to make a baby? ”

“ What if she puts a curse on me that makes me magically forget the location of the clitoris?! ”

“ Hey, don’t knock wacky decisions that endanger us all! That’s how I always manage to stay a step ahead of my nemeses! ”

“ Oh gods, I’ve killed so many monsters, just for being monsters. This is making me question my entire moral foundation. I NEED MORE THERAPY. ”

“ I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: fish give better pedicures than people! ”

“ You’re not tricking me into parenting a stupid egg. I’ve never fucked even ONE chicken! The egg is not my son! ”

“ You came to visit me at camp, Daddy! ”

“ Don’t be ridiculous, I know your brand of horny, [NAME], and this ain’t it. ”

“ I thought we both agreed to be nothing but vague and haughtily aloof about our past dalliances. ”

“ Point EAST, compass! EAAAAAAAAST! You dumb fuckboot!!!! POINT! EAST! ”

“ One time I was told a soul’s worst fear was bugs and I inadvertantly sent The Beatles. It happens to the best of us... And the worst of us. ”

“ SOMEDAY I SHALL DEFEAT YOUR FIVE STRANGE FEET! ”

“ Why do you keep suppressing your monster half? Embrace your true nature! ”

“ Wow. I didn't think this was possible, but I guess I was... wrong? About social media? Oh dear God, is this how grandparents feel?!?! Am I a GRANDPARENT?! ”

“ I don’t know! I was relying on my friends to cover up my bold and idiotic statement! ”

“ ... I ate the oars. ”

“ PSYCHE. The ocean can eat my ass. ”

“ So pucker up, [NAME]! I'm about to declare mouth war on your FACE! ”

“ YOU FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL! You're showing our inexperience! YOUR HONOR, THE ENTIRE LEGAL TEAM PLEADS THE FIFTH! ”

“ That's right. I'm talking about a classic Transylvania Hot Tub, a Seth Brundle, and a REVERSE Reverse Romanian Wilkinson. ”

“ Sorry, I was in your ribcage seeing if I could use it to cut strips of crepe paper into confetti and then I got lost in your kidneys. ”

“ There's nothing sexier than a doomed romance between a dating sim player and a hot fictional character. ”

“ That's right! I secretly replaced one of you with a bear while no one was looking, to teach you a valuable lesson about the art of disguise! ”

“ Enchant my armor. I’m going into the lake. ”

“ For VIOLENCE REASONS! ”

“ This stupid lake monster called me short the other day, but I was too low level to crush him like he deserved. ”

“ That dumb wet dinkhole won't know what hit him! But it will be me! I will hit him! ”

“ No, YOU'RE a fuckshark! Also, what does that even mean?! ”

“ You seriously didn't notice the enormous needles those interns jabbed into your veins as soon as [NAME] got here? “

“ It all makes sense! The Camp Dome is just an elaborate ploy to distract us from the giant mouth that eats campers! “

“ This is the BEST show I've ever seen in my life, which is now at an end! “

“ Am I high, or did he just tell us EXACTLY how to foil his evil scheme? “

“ What, like a few severed heads and visions of my grandpa screaming in horrendous pain are gonna freak me out? Where I'm from, you can buy that stuff at IKEA. “

“ ERROR: Due to the sixth mass extinction, the slaying of leprechauns is inadvisable. “

“ Then why do I have half-finished scarves, decoupage, pot-holders, friendship bracelets, and a taxidermied rabbit in my skeleton? “

“ The wang elemental. ”

“ I also have an uncle who works at Nintendo as a copy machine! “

“ What flavor of ice cream AM I?! Now I gotta know. HA! You know what I should be? 'Pistachio.' Because my outside is HARD, but I'm full of NUT. “

“ I mean, life is a bit like... this sandwich! No, stay with me, I'm going somewhere good with this. “

“ A survival situation without any sexy fun time isn't worth surviving in the first place. “

“ Rut the RUCK?! ”

“ The ' ambulance of the heart ' is just a regular ambulance! Ambulances treat all organs! ”

“ Yeah, that's why I made sure that my so-called ' emotional armor ' was also ' actual armor '. “

“ And being yourself is the key to living your dreams, which is the key to self actualization, which is the key to being really good at sex! “

“ So hot I'd buy that even without free shipping. 10/10, call me some time. “

“ Hi, quick question: does it count as kidnapping if I'm abducting you so you can help me do a thing you already agreed to help with? “

“ I could be wrong, but are you just upset because you DON'T have a skeleton that's inside your body? “

“ I'm gonna get SO FUCKING RELAXED MY HEAD WILL EXPLODE! “

“ Whoah, whoa, hold up. You're fucking my grandma? “

“ No, [NAME], that is a popcorn bag full of more dynamite. Put it down. “

“ I hear that at least 70% of people on Patreon aren't murderers! “

“ If you want cash, just rob banks like the rest of us! “

“ Did it work? Do you feel any less horny? ”

“ FUCK YEAH, LET'S PUNCH THAT MOUTH IN ITS MOUTH! “

“ Yes... incidentally, we are no longer allowed to enter Italy. “

“ Is anyone else turned on right now? ”

“ Yes! Yes! I know what you're feeling! I suddenly see how marrying a corpse isn't okay! “

“ JUST LET ME IMPROVE YOUR SELF ESTEEM, MORTAL! “

“ Look, choose whatever you want, but I'm not responsible for whatever you put in your mouth. ”

#rp starters #rp sentence starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #ask meme #rp ask meme #monster prom #monster camp #monster prom rp #monster prom roleplay #monster camp rp #monster camp roleplay #mine

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autisticcassandracain · 3 years

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ok disclaimer I’m new here and it’s completely possible that I missed some comic that refutes all I’m saying here but like. I just really cannot get over how bad of an identity Black Bat is. I just CANNOT get over it.

It’s not that I hate the idea of Cass moving on from the Batgirl mantle and going solo or anything, far from it! I think legacy mantles like Batgirl are (generally) made to be passed on, and I think that Cass realizing that she doesn’t need it anymore and is ready to strike out and create her own identity could be a really meaningful arc. It’s just. That the way that was done in canon is. Not It. I’m not gonna get into that because that’s a whole different rant I feel even less qualified to make but it sure doesn’t help me like the Black Bat identity for her.

but even separately from the way she acquired it, the Black Bat identity is bland and says little to nothing about Cass. Like, let’s do a rundown of the other major solo batfam identities (minus Red Robin bc I know precisely nothing about Tim):

Nightwing: as stated by Dick himself in The New Teen Titans: “What’s strange is that both name and costume are based on other people... both mentors... and friends.” Nightwing is a merging of all the people who have made Dick into who he is, most prominently Batman, who trained him and helped him get the skills he needed, and Superman, who gave him his name. While he costume has changed over the years, it’s maintained a sleek, skin-tight look that’s perfect for doing acrobatics in, which is Dick’s signature.

Oracle: created when writers tried to fridge her and the Joker shot her, Oracle is one of the few disabled superheroes and is a perfect fit for it. ‘Oracle’ as a name immediately conjures up associations with oracles from ancient Greek myth, so it works extremely well with Oracle’s focus on technology, both in the sense that it subverts the expected aesthetic, and that it accurately describes her role as mastermind and information gatherer. It shows off Barbara’s smarts and ingenuity.

Red Hood: was created after Jason came back from the dead and decided to cause problems on purpose, and it shows. Jason took a former alias of his murderer and made it his own, both reclaiming his trauma and signaling his change from morally good to morally gray/bad (depending on writer/interpretation). His main weapon is guns, specifically chosen to signal his opposition to what Batman stands for.

Spoiler: created in opposition to Stephanie’s supervillain dad, Cluemaster. The name ‘Spoiler’ makes a lot of sense when you remember its origins in ‘spoiling’ her father’s plans, and stands out for that reason. Her costume is maximized to preserve her identity, which again, ties back to her origins.

Signal: a name that ties back to Duke’s mother’s saying that the morning is the best time to see things clearly. As Duke said in Batman & The Signal: “She considered herself the first knight on the battlefield (...) and another word for the first knight out there is... ‘Signal’.” Duke has a unique place in the batfamily as both the first meta and the first daytime hero, and everything about his solo identity reflects that, from the name tying back to the morning light to the bright yellow in his costume.

As you can see, all of these identities tie back to at least some aspect of the character they’re embodied by. They tell us something about their goals for their superhero persona, about the character’s personality and/or backstory, etc. Even in the event that Red Robin is a garbage identity (which tbh just going by the name I think it very well might be but again, I know nothing about Tim), that still leaves the vast majority of solo identities saying something about the person who created them.

But Black Bat? What does that tell me about Cass? Her costume design isn’t bad, but it’s pretty standard and not extremely unique (except for her cool cape, I’ll give it that). All the name tells me is that 1) she’s kinda edgy, maybe and 2) she’s part of the batfamily. That’s it. That’s literally all it does.

Black Bat is very obviously an identity that wasn’t the result of someone sitting down and honestly thinking what solo identity would fit Cass the best; it’s the result of someone haphazardly slapping a solo identity onto Cass so that Stephanie could be Batgirl.

so yeah TL;DR I think Black Bat is a bad identity because it’s generic and tells you little to nothing about Cass.

#cassandra cain #my posts #infodumping #if i got anything wrong in terms of origins/personality/etc. for any of the characters feel free to let me know #like i said i'm new here #also I elected to leave batman out of the solo identity list bc even though it's technically a solo identity it's also. the goddamn batman #like batman is more a symbol at this point than a person almost #while I would definitely argue it tells you a LOT about bruce wayne it does so with like 100 years of comic book history #so it's kinda in its own category imo

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wolf-and-bard · 3 years

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The Geraskier Dungeons and Dragons AU of my dreams (inspired by the TAD AMA and Joey apparently being an amazing dm):

-"Why do you hate fun," Eskel complains - for the fifth time that day - after Geralt refused his invitation to a new DnD campaign - for the fifth time that day. Geralt doesn't hate fun. He hates play-acting and games, especially if they rely on luck and are overly complicated, he hates big groups of people, and he hates being told stories. Dungeons and Dragons encompasses all of those aspects and that is why Geralt avoids it like the plague. "It's not for me," he mutters and hands Eskel the sandwiches he made for him to take to work. - "But this Jaskier guy is legendary, like I heard he's the best Dungeonmaster in the state." - "Likely an exaggeration...." - "Pleeaaaase. I had to bribe the hell out of Aiden to have him give up the two spots he had." That piques Geralt's interest. "What'd you bribe him with?" Eskel scratches his head sheepishly. "I may have sold our brother's hand in marriage." - "That's ballsy for you... does Lambert know of his luck yet?" Eskel shakes his head and Geralt huffs a laugh. His brothers are unbelievable, one so nerdy it makes up for Geralt's complete lack of interest in pop culture, the other an oblivious prick that tends to get arrested for being offensive. Ciri is their only hope. "So are you coming?" - "Absolutely no way."

-Geralt doesn't want to go and until half an hour before the game is supposed to start, he keeps his resolve. But then Eskel bursts into their shared living room - their flat is still attached to their father's house, but separate enough that it feels like their own; Lambert has a type penthouse suite to himself and Ciri still lives with Vesemir in the main house - with an excited blush and wearing a WoW shirt and the biggest, brightest puppy eyes, and begs Geralt on hands and knees to come with him. "Why though?" Geralt asks. "Would be more fun if I stayed away..." - "But I'm awkward and your pretty face may distract from that." - "Esk, we have the same face." Which is true, save for... oh. The scars. Of course, Geralt wants to smack himself. Eskel always tends to be more self-conscious in groups of new people because of his marred face, an accident in the zoo when they were young. He believes having Geralt with him shows other people how he is supposed to look like. Geralt doesn't believe it's a great coping mechanism, but he can never deny his twin anything. "Fuck," he grumbles and a triumphant grin blooms over Eskel's features.

-That first session is to go over the basics for anyone who needs a refresher and to talk about what each player expects from the campaign bla bla bla; Geralt doesn't contribute more than the odd grunt and is soon distracted by Jaskier's bright eyes, his pretty mouth, his whole energetic demeanor... he develops a little fixation over the course of the evening and gives up on trying to understand the game

-Jaskier approaches him after, while everyone else is exchanging notes on their characters, excited and electric and Geralt hasn't the first clue on what to do. A light hand on his shoulder, a welcoming smile. "Geralt, right?" Geralt nods curtly and Jaskier pulls up a chair and sits. Way too close for Geralt's comfort. He doesn't... mind? Fuck are those butterflies? Already? "If you have trouble figuring out your character, we could always do a private session to get you going. What do you say?" - "Saturday," Geralt grunts in reply. Jaskier claps delightedly, then is distracted by one of the women, Calanthe Geralt recalls, asking if she can play a lioness shapeshifter. He lets Eskel collect him, endures his brother's constant prattle on the ride back. He dares to give the whole thing a shot.

-Their private session starts out with Jaskier explaining different classes of characters, a few bottles of Geralt's favourite Redanian Lager on the side. He tries to listen, at least at first. But then Jaskier keeps licking froth from his lips and some of the perspiration from the cold bottles runs down his exposed neck and fuck, Geralt just can't stop himself. Eskel said over and over that Jaskier was basically a magician, but Geralt thought that would be restricted to the game. Nope. His dick definitely twitches when Jaskier leans over him to grab the dice Geralt brought upon Eskel's recommendation. Geralt catches a whiff of his shampoo - vanilla? - and Jaskier's arm brushes Geralt and well. He lets out a low whine. Jaskier hums a question mark, but when he sees the look on Geralt face his encouraging smile turns devilish, knowing. "Good," he breathes, drops the dice and climbs onto Geralt's lap. "I thought it was only me." Geralt catches Jaskier's hips and they kiss. No classes are studied that day, no alignments picked, no attributes determined. Instead, Geralt learns all the beautiful noises Jaskier can make, learns some of his own anew. They will need another private session to make up for lost time

-"Perhaps I should just design a character for you," Jaskier pants into Geralt's neck as he slow-fucks him on their couch, Eskel being out with Lambert to clear up the whole Aiden thing. It's the third time they're meeting to figure out Geralt's character. Geralt grunts and accelerates just enough to keep them both on the edge. His skin is burning and Jaskier writhes, his shoulders littered with bite marks. "Oh, fuck, Geralt, please." Later, Geralt agrees to Jaskier's suggestion. He makes him pancakes for breakfast.

-When the first session is well underway, everyone quickly realizes that this game really isn't for Geralt. He tries, he does. Jaskier was kind, gave him a stoic half-orc warrior that communicates mostly with grunts, but he still doesn't get all the rules and Calanthe is getting impatient with him, her boyfriend Eist amused by this, and Eskel keeps throwing the dice for Geralt, and these girls, Téa and Véa, stare daggers at him. Jaskier's watches it all with amusement, gently steering the group back towards their adventure - not that Geralt has the first clue what their objective is. But Geralt wants to keep playing if only because Jaskier is so fucking beautiful in his element, imitating voices, using the most ridiculous vocabulary, glowing with pure joy. It's a privilege to see, Geralt understands that now. And he has to thank Eskel for taking him despite his reservations

-"Won't you go on a normal date with me?" Geralt asks one night when they are wrapped up in Jaskier's bed, contented and tired from their earlier activities. "I could take you hunting or whatever." - "That's what you call a normal date?" Jaskier laughs and kisses him lightly. They haven't defined whatever it is they're doing, but Geralt is in no rush. Especially because he hasn't yet dared to breach the topic with Eskel who quickly befriended Jaskier (and everyone else of course, at the end of the day Eskel is a social butterfly, no matter what scars he bears). "Just... go out with me." - "You know, usually I have a strict policy for dating players, but... well that's already way out the window so, yeah, okay. I'll go out with you. But we're absolutely not going hunting, I'm a vegetarian." Alas, there had to be some catch.

-Geralt keeps playing and his permanent confusion becomes part of his character as well. It isn't ideal, but the others - and Jaskier's forgiving storytelling - drag him through to the end of it. By then, Geralt almost gets it. "Well," Jaskier concludes. "That was a bit of a different campaign. Hope you all liked it." The bastard acts abashed. Hah. Geralt and Eskel are the last ones to leave after they all toasted and talked about playing again some time. "You coming?" Eskel asks, hovering near the door. He's long past his initial anxiety, his fangirling, his self-consciousness. That too has been a glorious part of this, seeing Eskel unfold, gain confidence, be at ease. He likes that he could give his brother the safety he needed. "I, uhm," Geralt starts, but Jaskier interrupts by threading his arm through Geralt's. "We are! What's for dinner?" And he drags Geralt past Eskel who raises a brow. Geralt tries to communicate with his eyes all he neglected to tell Eskel. It's only because they're so close that Eskel at least understands that they are something like boyfriends now. He laughs.

-"My baby brother," Eskel lulls later when Jaskier is already passed out from too much wine and Geralt and him stand outside, sharing a rare cigarette. He ruffles Geralt head. "I'd wondered why you stuck around so long." - "Fuck off," Geralt says.

-The next time Eskel invites him to a campaign, Geralt tags along. Not because he particularly wants to, but because now there are two pairs of puppy eyes, begging him, and he can't say no to either of them, let alone both (maybe someday he will actually enjoy the game for its own merits)

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amarriageoftrueminds · 3 years

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i feel like it's been so long since civil war at this point s*mb*ckies have forgotten that sam really never fully understood why steve even bothered with bucky and treated him like a lost cause that steve was foolish to try and save, pretty much the only other people besides steve who have ever extended any real compassion to him were t'challa and shuri

Anon, you’re so right!

It's an absolute injustice to the potential of Sam's character as a trained healer of both bodies and minds not to have him see what Bucky truly is.

I didn't mind Sam saying 'he's not the kind you save, he's the kind you stop' (or words to that effect) in CATWS.

After the freeway fight but before he'd ever had a chance to read Bucky's casefiles.

But years later?

When he's been with Steve, hunting Bucky around the globe, and, y'know, would've been in a position to see Hydra torture chambers up close in person (and note the lack of revenge-corpses put there by Bucky, proving his current non-violence!)

Put also in a position to read Bucky's horrifying medical history, (which Sam would understand best, of anyone on Team Cap!) and to hear stories from Steve about the person Bucky is, and from Natasha about how life under Russian brainwashers is...

To have Sam then act as if Bucky is a write-off, still, is just shonky characterisation.

(Doing things like, for example, being a dick to Bucky because the Winter Soldier just punched him; when Bucky was being electrocuted, screaming for Zemo to stop.

Sam’s expertise should have him being neutral to Bucky, at least.

But instead he’s saying, eg. ‘oh and just like that we’re supposed to be cool?’ Yes, Sam, just like that!

It’s supposed to be his specific area of expertise, above anybody else’s, to be able to distinguish between the Soldier and the victim screaming in agony.

Even if he personally doesn’t get along with Bucky, and doesn’t intend to help him with counseling like he did (stranger) Steve, if Sam is in character, he wouldn’t be treating Bucky as untrustworthy or criminal; simply because he would know, as a professional counselor, that he’s not.

It makes you question why the writers think Sam is even there, if he doesn’t believe in the possibility of Bucky’s innocence?

His purported background should mean he’s there because he can professionally recognise that innocence, and because his morals tell him that helping Bucky is therefore the right thing to do.

Not because Steve thinks it’s right and Sam’s merely going along with it.

The show had Sam strenuously objecting to going around with Zemo, because he’s a bad guy, and he acts the same about Bucky in the films.

So why would he be friends with Steve at all, if he believes Steve is friends with bad guys? Why would he help Steve look for Bucky for two years, if he still sees Bucky as indistinguishable from the Soldier?

It just doesn’t make sense.

Here’s an analogy: Robotics is Tony’s whole thing, so imagine if he ignored a robot or couldn’t recognise it as one.

That would be bizarre, right?

Never mind whether Tony liked that specific robot, or intended to help fix it. Robotics is his main skill, so at the very least he would be able to spot a robot when he sees one, if he’s written IC.

Sam being mean to Bucky right out of the gate, before they’ve even spoken to each other, (telling him ‘I hate you’ within a couple of hours of meeting him), as if he believes Bucky is a bad person, is a failure of Sam’s specific stated skill set; comparable to Tony not being able to recognise a robot.

It would be fine if Sam was a naturally unfriendly person with no expertise with counseling POWs or veterans; but it’s not fine if he is gregarious and kind and is supposed to have that specific innocence-recognising expertise.)

So: it’s OOC.

Bad writing.

It makes it seem as if Sam being a Pararescue and a Counsellor was only tell and not show; because he's only shown giving bad advice, unless it's to a famous man whom he obviously admires and wants to impress. And doesn’t care about a veteran POW friend of a friend?

As a V.A. counselor of ex-POW and people with PTSD, if Sam were as good as his job as we're expected to believe (oh dear, we've got another Peggy Carter situation here) he should've been the person most likely, after Steve, to be able to see Bucky's innocence, and subsequently treat him neutrally and/or well.

(Actually: Cap Quartet, Sam and Nat should've got it in a way no one else could, albeit for very different reasons.)

We see this neutral/benign treatment of Bucky from T’Challa, who isn’t an expert recogniser & rescuer of POW veterans, isn’t Steve’s friend, hasn’t dedicated two years of his life to rescuing Bucky, and isn’t as well-informed about Bucky as Sam is.

(And then the writing has Sam giving T’Challa attitude, too, for no damn reason?! Why are they writing Sam like this??

It seems like they’ve just gone ‘well they were in a fight with him 5 mins ago so Sam must automatically hate them, right?’ without knowing that it contradicts Sam’s personality & backstory.

But hey, who gives a shit so long as it’s funny, right?)

Yet as soon as Bucky allegedly shows up planting a bomb at the UN (even though he's a sniper, not a demo expert, ffs! not to mention 50 lbs heavier and twice the width/height of the guy in the video!) Suddenly everyone, Sam included, (and Nat!) is trying to dissuade Steve from going to stop his childhood friend being shot in the head... 'while resisting arrest.' For a black man not to have empathy for that, at least, beggars belief. Sam could recognise the Accords would be abused but not recognise the injustice of this? BS!

And no one ever seems to point out that it was Sam who decided to tell Tony where Steve and Bucky were, when Tony had just been doing his damndest to fight them -- as if Sam would just turn around and trust the rich white guy who shot him out of sheer spite like half an hour ago??

(Again, it’s Sam shown being friendly and bending over backwards for a famous white man, even when it’s most illogical, just because the creators like Tony.)

I wonder how Sam felt when he saw how beat up Steve was, when he came to the Raft, because of him telling Tony where to go? (Or rather the writers, stupidly, having him tell Tony.)

I bet they'd never write him apologising to Bucky for costing him an arm?

So... yeah.

Even after FATWS, when you realise Sam didn't actually welcome Bucky to visit him...

(And only allowed him a- not even a bed, just a couch!- to sleep on because he was jockeyed into it, and his sister and nephews had already met Bucky and warmed to him. And then gave Bucky the same dangerous shitty victim-blaming advice they put in the mouth of that Annabelle Lecter.)

...Bucky is still in a situation where only Steve, T'Challa, Shuri, and Ayo, have ever showed him any real compassion.

(Although you can tell the FATWS writers think what they’ve written is Sam and Zemo being compassionate).

After co-headlining an entire series?

It's fucking heart breaking.

#long post #anti s*mbucky #hey nonny #toAyourQ #sam meta #bucky meta #fatws meta #anti sam's writing #antisambucky #mcu meta #tfatws #dat's me #🤞🏼 the dumb tagging system doesn't have this turn up in the main tag since it's clearly marked ANTI dumb site #I could've been happily shipping sambuca by now if they'd just done their damn jobs #they had a new ship handed to them on a gold platter and fucked it up #I don't consider myself anti-sambuca; more anti this-version-of-sam being treated as if he's treated bucky well in canon when he hasn't #(altho you can tell the people writing him think he has)#write sam wilson properly! don't make him a counselor and then say he's unable to recognise veteran POW innocence!#he's a wise man with a big heart! not a celebrity sycophant!#it's exasperating how people take any criticism of sam's writing as criticism of sam #and then call it racism #the same way that people dismiss (valid) criticism of peggy as misogyny #sam's the kernel of a great character well-played by mackie #but it's a case of tell then show (the opposite) all over again #when you're left going 'huh... wait a minute... sam's supposed to be a great guy but that thing he did/said/thought wasn't great??'#honestly fuck marvel and the low quality people they choose to hire fuck spellman #different assholes same shit coming out of them

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years

Text

yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

#i love all of you guys so much thanks for all these asks #some of these are literally from march but fuck it #the day tumblr puts dates next to anon messages is the day i close my inbox crawl into a hole and die #it's such a basic task to answer asks but i don't want to bother anyone with asks clogging up their timeline #and if i don't have a funny or good answer i'm like 'uhh okay won't answer it now then'#so this is for you #also i deleted a few asks because it gives me mental pain to see my inbox go over 50 and it's almost at 100 #i was complaining about having too many asks to the-real-peter-parker like months ago and then i had 45 asks in my inbox #now it's amassed to going over 100 twice #but no i love all of you and you're great and you're all fantastic and i lvoe you #muchos kiss kiss #kiss kiss for my kiddies lvoe you #invincible spoilers #dc #dcu #dc comics #ask #anon #bataranswers #i really wanna try aguapanela now i'm gonna see if i can find panela somewhere and review it for you babes #uh yeah that's it #muchos gracias for all your questions babes

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felikatze · 3 years

Note

Just wanted to say thank you so much for all the brainworms you have been giving me and my friends for the past few hours about Ayin and all the analyses you've been doing about him.

I have been losing my mind in the middle of the night thinking about all the things you've said, turning it over like crazy and trying to compare it with the gameplay I've had of Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina.

Please do more analysis and share more of your ideas! Please? Please, with cherry on top? Please, I beg of you?

Especially if you have in-depth ideas of analyses for the Sephirah and how it relates to both their own characters and Ayin and Angela.

I thank you greatly in advance!

the implication that i've infected an entire friend group with my brainworms is power that will 100% go to my head i feel amazing. what else is analysis posting except trying to inflict people with the same thoughts bouncing around your skull on repeat

i DO have shit on the sephirah but mostly netzach, because i love netzach, and i in fact found my discord ramble about him (and chesed)

i dont have things on how they relate to A and Angela specifically because I mainly kept thinking abt Reverbaration Ensemble parallels... i have so many thoughs abt Netzach and Bremen.

(but if you want me to talk about, say, a specific core supression, or floor realization... i have a lot of thoughts on floor realizations.)

First off I am so sorry that you seem to think I'm smart because that means i have the perfect opportunity to inflict you with this

okay now we can get to the serious stuff

[transcript:

containment breach:

quick ramble abt lor again but i love the ensemble receptions so much. i'm at chesed's rn, and i know he's been chill the entire game, but him just refusing to comment on jae-hoon's tragedy seems, out of context, a dick move, but also is so important for chesed to do? he recognizes that another's suffering is not related to him, that he can't do anything about it, and that this is fine. The closest i'd describe chesed in lobcorp would be "activist burnout." Due to betraying the lab from garion's pressure, chesed was so consumed by guilt, he just blamed himself for everything and became more callous because it's already his fault, right? There's nothing he can do. But in lor, he knows what his responsibilities are, and allows himself joy where he can find it. I love the ensemble receptions bcuz they are just examplary of each patron libriarian's growth and i iqbfjc (sobs)

GOD this sure is a paragraph

also have to salute netzach for carrying his scene all by himself as the musicians of bremen just (animal noises) :pray:

ykno being online i realize that i'm not quiet at all i am a complete and utter chatterbox /end]

[transcript:

containment breach:

thinking abt netzach's scene where he doesn't talk to bremen, because he can't, but recognizes this who has not only lost themself in their own art but also their own suffering

i just i love netzach so much his entire character arc is abt learning to live with depression and learning to want to live again

so he becomes unable to understand, really, why someone would sacrifice themselves for their own art

when he started out just, similar yet different from bremen, completely submerged in his own misery

musicians of bremen reminds me i still have bremen bon bons at home i should eat those. they r tasty /end]

i wanna specifically dig into this scene more because i love that scene, a lot.

Art as we get to know it in the City is irrevocably tied to violence. Puppets are made of human bodies, music is played on bones and sinews. To the artists of the City, to create art is to make someone suffer. Rewatching Netzach's story bits, Roland describes it as doing nothing but seeking stimulation and being provocative.

Furthermore, there is a direct comparison between art and alcohol. To paraphrase more, the Pianist must've been one hell of a stimulant, like getting hit by a strong booze. A performance some are still hungover from.

Netzach's main struggle was addiction because of depression, and his growing appreciation for art is a continuation of that arc. He says himself that art and alcohol are linked.

However, alcohol is a step down from hard drugs. Netzach hasn't quit, but just that step down shows he learned moderation, which makes me very proud of him.

Moderation is what the other.. let's just call them artists, lack. I said in the screencaps above, initially, Netzach was lost in his own suffering, and the musicians of bremen are lost in their art. And if art is seen as equal to suffering, that just means Netzach and Bremen are more similar than expected. (Especially considering what we see of the musicians previously; they’re always trying to chase the same high they experienced listening to the Pianist by any means necessary. The addiction parallels are not suprising.)

I rewatched most of Netzach's lor scenes, and what rlly gets me is that in his first one, he seems almost the exact same as in lobcorp. He doesn't want to work, he got dragged into this against his will, he feels as if his accomplishments are futile.

But! He eventually invites Roland for drinks. He's not drinking to forget alone anymore, he's doing it as social activity. Furthermore, the more time he spends as Patron Librarian of Arts, the more he grows to appreciate art. Art is tied to suffering, still, but it is an expression of suffering. It does not produce any. Or should not, in any case. He sure wishes it wouldn’t.

So we arrive at his Ensemble Reception. This one makes a rather interesting comparison: art as the pursuit of the light. Let me elaborate.

To quote, “Honestly, I wanna tell people to stop doing the kind of art that requires ‘em to immolate themselves and others. Although, on the other hand... I can kinda see where they’re coming from. Art narrows your vision, after all.

You stop caring about the things around you. That’s how most artists seem to act, I think. And so, you indulge in the craft, not realizing that you’re throwing yourself and your surroundings into the fire you started.”

I pose this: Netzach speaks of his experience as Giovanni. Giovanni was a researcher who, when push came to shove, willingly sacrificed himself to advance the project, in hopes of seeing the light, seeing Carmen, again.

Though he dislikes Bremen’s actions, he does not judge them for it, because he recognized that it would be hypocritical. Even so, what shows that he’s grown is that he.. doesn’t want to see people harm themselves anymore. The focus here isn’t if Bremen hurt other people, which they have, but how much of themselves they’ve given up for their performance. He condemns the act, and not the people.

“If I can see that light once more... If I have to muster up the courage to reach it, I’ll gladly do it. It’s easier said than done, though; you need a lot of fearlessness for it.

And I guess you saw the same kind of light I was so desperate to see, yeah? Even if yours was a twisted creature... [...] Though, I don’t think I can tell you off like the others. At least I can see the reason behind it.”

He even explicitly mentions the light. The funny thing is, both Giovanni and Bremen tried to reach the Seed of Light, and Carmen. It’s tragically hilarious that we know Carmen is the voice the Distortions hear.

Hell, the more I think about it, the more you can just compare the Ensemble as a whole to the Outskirts Lab crew, down to Angelica’s puppet body and Carmen’s desecrated corpse.

“And I know pretty well that we have no right to devilishly pick apart each other’s way of art. I’m not very proud of mine, really...”

Netzach just.. gets it. I can’t remember atm, but I don’t think the other Patron Librarians really draw parallels like that. I’m seeing all the parallels now and I can’t unsee them ever. Bro.

His “art,” his way of protecting the light, is still violent. But he sees that perhaps it didn’t have to be, or rather shouldn’t be. I fucking love Netzach so much. His arc just means a lot to me personally, and I’d wager a lot of people who’ve struggled with mental illness would agree.

I’m not gonna get into Netzach’s floor realization here because this post is already long enough, but like, look at the specific flashback of Angela shown in Netzach’s story bits and contrast it to his arc of learning to want to live, and. Yeah.

#Feli gets asked #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #netzach #NETZACH MY MAN NETZACH.#long post #this took a while to make cuz i got distracted many times by playing video games #also i'm not sorry for the first bit. know it in your heart. i'm right.

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Ch7: Old Habits Die Hard Part 3

Summary: Stella faces the aftermath of her actions in Mexico, and heads home to stay with her mom for a while. But Jake’s hot on her heels, and he’s not giving in without a fight.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language and a whole heap of angst.

A/N: So here is the final part of Chapter 7…and well, we hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7 Part 2

So lay down your weary heart, stay by my side, and I promise I’ll be here, till we run out of time

"Hey, Pumpkin." Evan gave Stella a small smile as she answered the door and Stella found herself grimacing at the pet name.

"Hi." She gave him a little smile back as he leaned in to kiss her. Automatically, she turned her face to the side so he caught her cheek and not her lips. He frowned a little as she stepped back to let him in and glanced at her for a moment, his eyes sliding downwards for a split second and Stella saw something flash on his face, but she couldn't quite place his expression. Without a word, he stepped into the apartment, following her to the living area. When she reached the couch she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to say something but he jumped in.

"Listen Stella, I’m so sorry. I was an ass, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and left you to go to the wedding alone."

"So you weren’t working then?" She shook her head as Evan let out a sigh. "I didn’t think so

Evan licked his lips and dropped his head a little. "No, I wasn’t. Like I said, I reacted like an ass. I shouldn’t have lied to you, I'm sorry."

"But you did and," Stella shrugged, "it doesn’t matter anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"It’s over, Evan."

Evan blinked, and then frowned a little. "Is this because of what I said the other night?"

Stella sighed. "In a way, yes, it is." She looked at him for a second as the hurt spread across his face before she took a deep breath and glanced down at her hands. She felt awful. Guilt was flooding her system, not only at the hurt on his face but the fact she'd done what she had. But she knew she had to stand strong. It wasn't fair on him, and it wasn't fair on her. "It caught me unawares and I didn’t know how to react," she looked up as she tried to explain, "I panicked but the truth is I didn’t say it back because I couldn’t Ev. I still can’t."

"Stel, look," Evan swallowed and took a step towards her, "I get it. You’ve been hurt in the past and you’re worried about how fast it’s going and, maybe you can’t say it yet, but you know, that doesn’t mean you don’t or you won’t."

"I thought it could be that way but I can’t lie to myself. Not anymore." She shook her head. "I don’t love you Evan. And I’m not sure I ever will."

Evan blinked, and in an instant the hurt on his face slid into something more akin to anger as his jaw set. He gave a scoff, shaking his head and gestured towards her with his right hand.

"You know, you’re never gonna be able to love anyone else whilst you’re still letting Jensen into your head and your bed." The slap his arm made as it swung back to his side rang loudly across the silent apartment as Stella felt her eyes widen.

"What? That’s not," she desperately tried to protest, even thought it was a blatant lie, "I haven’t-"

"No?" Evan gave a scoff. "The mark on your neck tells me a different story."

Stella felt the heat in her neck, she'd been well and truly caught out, and she felt like shit. She took a deep breath, deciding to come clean, he deserved that at least. "I’m sorry. I was drunk and it was a huge mistake. I shouldn’t have done it but that’s nothing to do with why I’m ending this."

Evan shook his head. "I should have come with you. Fuck!" He seethed. "I shouldn’t have left you alone with him."

"But you didn’t come, and I cheated on you." Stella remained calm. "I'm not proud of it, I've never done this to anyone before and I feel awful, I really do." She swallowed and sighed. "You’re a great guy, Evan, and you have to believe me when I say, what happened this weekend has nothing to do with why I’m... "

"Why you’re breaking up with me? Really, Stel? You expect me to believe that?"

Stella licked her lips and blinked back her tears. "It’s the truth. I’m sorry."

"For what exactly, Stella? For leading me on? For making me fall in love with you when you’re still clearly hooked on your ex? For cheating on me? And with him nonetheless!" Evan's voice gathered volume as he ranted, all the time his eyes boring into hers, "fuck Stel! After everything I did for you!"

Stella looked down, unable to meet his eyes as a tear fell down her cheek. "I wasn’t leading you on. I really did, I mean do like you I just," she looked up, "I can’t lie to you or to myself anymore. This isn’t right. And I think deep down you know that it ain’t gonna work."

“Of course it ain’t gonna work. Because you’re not putting any effort into it!"

"It shouldn’t have to be an effort, Ev." Stella responded, wetting her lips a little with her tongue. There was a moment of silence, before Evan scoffed.

"Whatever. If you're happy to keep being a way for that asshole to simply get his dick wet then that’s up to you. But I tell you something, he’ll hurt you again. And don’t come crying to me when he does."

Stella took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "It’s not like that. At all. He’s not, I mean I’m not..." she trailed off and rubbed at her temple. "This has got nothing to do with him, Evan. I’m breaking it off because I don’t love you and I’m really sorry but I can’t lie to you."

"The only person you’re lying to is yourself, Stella." Evan shook his head. "I’ll see myself out."

He turned to leave, Stella remained rooted to the spot. She looked up at the ceiling, wiped her eyes and then turned to him as he opened the door.

"Evan, I really am sorry." She whispered and he stopped, taking a deep breath before he turned to look at her, his blue eyes wet with tears which made Stella feel about as low as she ever had.

"So am I."

With that the door slammed, leaving her stood alone in her apartment, deadly silence engulfing the room. Her legs gave way and she sank to the floor, her back pressed to the couch, tears pouring down her face.

“Fuck!” She yelled, throwing her head back against the couch. She felt like shit. She never wanted to hurt him, she really did like him and never set out for any of this to happen. She'd wanted to have a future, with someone else, but the sad thing was, Evan had hit the nail on the head. As long as Jake was in her life and her heart, she was never going to be able to be with anyone else.

Because, as much as she wished it wasn't true, she still loved him.

As she sat there, her head awash with a flood of feelings and doubts, her phone rang. Shifting a little, she pulled it from her pocket and saw her sister’s name flashing on the screen. Stella took a deep breath, contemplating simply letting it go to voicemail but she realised she really wanted to hear a friendly voice, and despite the fact they were very different people, she loved her sister and knew that Rey would always have her back. With a shaking hand she swiped to answer the call.

“Hey Stel, how was Mexico? I want all the goss about you and Evs first little break! Well, maybe not all the goss as that’s gross and TMI but-“

At that Stella let out the sob she had been trying to keep down and managed to stutter her sister’s name. Immediately, Rey’s tone flicked from its usual, bubbly nature to concerned.

“Woah, Stelly? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Yeah. I just.... “ at that more tears came and her voice broke once more as she struggled to speak.

“You what, Stel? Are you ok?” Rey demanded. “Why are you crying Stel? Talk to me.”

Stella took a deep breath, fighting for control, eventually managing to find enough to stammer into the phone, “I broke up with Ev.”

“You did what?” Rey’s voice was nothing more than a hissed whisper, conveying her shock. “Why? Stel, are you out of your mind?”

At that Stella began crying even more. “I don’t know, maybe.” She wiped her face with the back of her sweater sleeve, giving a very undignified snort as she did so. “But I don’t love him Rey and...” She choked on her words, struggling for composure as her sister took a deep breath.

“You don’t love him? I don’t-“

“He told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back. So I went to Mexico in my own and-“

Rey cut her off with a low groan. “Tell me you didn’t!” Stella’s loud sob was all the answer Rey needed. “Oh Stell!”

“I know, I know! But I was drunk and I felt lonely and mad at Ev and, it’s Jakey, Rey!”

“You still love him don’t you?” Rey’s voice was sympathetic, not a shred of frustration left. Stella swallowed, pressing the hell of her hand to her forehead in an attempt to relieve the pain that was starting to form from the force of her crying.

“I never stopped.” She stammered and Rey gave a heavy sigh.

“Shit, Stel.”

“Rey, I don’t know what to do.” Stella whispered, her voice trembling as she struggled for air, her throat felt tight and dry.

“Have you talked to him? To Jake I mean?”

“Sorta.” Stella gave another snort. “The morning after I mean, but I can’t face him. I can’t go there again Rey, I just-“

“And that’s fine, Stel, you don’t have to. Just avoid him until you clear your head. You can call me whenever you need to, I got you on this.” Her big sister placated, voice stern yet gentle. “And you got Clay there too. Talk to him if it’s too much, okay?”

Stella took a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah okay.” She wiped her eyes and her nose once more before she cleared her throat. “Listen, Rey, I’m gonna go get a bath. I’m exhausted.”

“Great idea, use some of that bath foam I made, it’s got lavender and rose hip in, perfect relaxation.”

Stella smiled. “Sounds like the perfect accompaniment to a large glass of red.”

Rey chuckled before she sighed. “Promise me you call me if you need me? No matter what time or when.”

“I will. Thanks Rey, oh, and don’t mention this to Mom. Not yet. I’ll tell her myself.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” Rey assured her.

“Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too, sis.”

Stella cut the call, tossing the phone onto the coffee table before she hugged her knees to her chest, lending herself some comfort before he heaved herself off the floor and headed to the kitchen. She filled a wine glass full to the brim before she slurped a mouthful, wiping her tears once more before she made sure her door was locked, flicked off the lights and headed to the bathroom.

****

It was Thursday, four days after getting home, and Stella was sat outside on her small balcony, wrapped in a warm sweater in the April sun with a book and a coffee when there was a loud knock on her door. She hesitated for a moment, as it had to be someone who had access to the building and her mind immediately went to Jake, before she heard Clay's deep baritone.

"Stella, it's me. Open up."

It was a command, not a question, so she placed her book down on the table, picked up her mug and headed inside. She opened the door and turned away, leaving him to follow her, which he did, shutting the door behind him.

"You want at a coffee?" She asked, heading into the kitchen. "It's not long made."

"Sure." Clay nodded, and he stayed silent whilst Stella made herself a fresh cup, and one for Clay, knowing just how he took it, before she slid it over the counter and for the first time met his eyes.

"You look like shit. Guess this mystery illness really has wiped you out, huh?”

"Thanks, Franklin." She said sarcastically and Clay snorted. "I haven’t been sleeping well."

"Yeah, you definitely caught-" Clay raised his hands and bend his index and middle fingers on both, making quotation signs, "-the bug. It’s annoying, right?" Stella looked at him, blinking as he took a sip of his drink, knowing full well that he had well and truly sussed her out. "And impossible to cure from what I hear. Not even a slap gets rid of it."

Stella let out a soft groan. "Should have imagined you saw that."

"Stell, sweetheart, the entire party saw it." Clay eyed her. "Gotta say, your dad would be proud. It was one hell of a slap."

She scratched at her neck. "In my defense I was drunk and angry."

"Yeah, I know. I caught your apology to Pooch and Jolene the next day. Just before you rushed to the airport ignoring the rest of us."

"I needed to catch my flight." Stella's gaze dropped to the counter, both her hands cupping her mug.

"Before the bug caught you sneaking away from the resort, huh?"

"Something like that." She sighed and took a sip of her coffee.

"So what you gonna do?" Clay asked, placing his mug down. "About your condition, I mean."

Stella shrugged, bowing her head. "That’s the worst bit, Clay. I can’t do anything can I? I couldn’t even be happy with someone else."

"You speaking about Evan in the past tense now?" Clay cocked his head and Stella swallowed.

"I ended it on Sunday."

"Well, I'm not gonna lie and tell you I’m sorry, Stella." Clay shrugged a little and Stella's mouth curled up inot a sad little smile.

"I don’t expect you to."

"You know as well as I do there was something off about that guy." Clay continued and Stella gave a little groan.

"Can we not? There was, is, nothing wrong with Evan. This is down to me and my inability to get some dickhead who dumped me years ago outta my head."

"And out of your bed from what I’ve heard." Clay eyed her shrewdly and Stella stilled, looking at him for a moment before she licked her lips.

"How do you know about that?"

"Practically everyone knew by breakfast." Clay gave her a sympathetic smile. "Turns out one spiteful, red-headed bridesmaid was on your floor too and you weren’t exactly quiet when you were shouting down the hall."

Stella groaned.

"Hell hath no fury, Arty." Clay's eyes twinkled with humour and Stella rolled her eyes.

"It’s complicated, Clay and I can’t face Jake. Not yet. Not like this." She signalled to her congested face and red eyes and Clay took a deep breath, his face sympathetic.

"He’s been worried sick. Says you’re ignoring him."

"Huh, maybe he isn’t as stupid as he looks." Stella shrugged and Clay gave a snort.

"Despite what we all say, he isn’t an idiot. He knows he fucked up. Again."

"It wasn’t just him. We both... well, I wasn’t exactly unwilling." Stell licked her lips as she shrugged. "And as much as I want to say I hated it..." She trailed off, her finger gliding around the rim of her mug. "But it just made everything worse."

"Well, one thing I can tell you is that sitting in here, hiding away isn't going to help." Clay spoke gently, and as Stella opened her mouth to protest he cut her off, holding his hand up. "He's not here. He shipped out with Cougs to support a specialist recruitment exercise at Fort Sill this morning."

"How long is he gone?" Stell asked, her voice quiet.

"He’s back Friday." Clay smiled. "Look, why don’t you take a few days off and go home. You could use some family time right now."

"We just got back from a few days away."

"Yeah, and you've been here, hiding so what difference does it make if you hide in New Hampshire? Besides, you're no use to me like this." Stella took a deep breath as Clay continued. "How long since you saw your mom or Rey?"

"Bout six weeks."

"Then go." Clay persisted. "It's not like you have anything pressing here to do, if we need you then I’ll send for you."

"Thanks, Clay." Stella smiled. "

*****

“What do you mean she’s gone home?” Jensen frowned as Clay looked at him, having just finished explaining to the pair of them where Stella was.

“Well, you know her home in New Hampshire?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s gone there.”

Cougar snorted and Jensen let out a low groan of frustration. He was tired and had just gotten back from a long, hard slog away from home to be greeted by this and he wasn’t in the mood for Clay’s sarcasm.

“When is she coming back?” He demanded, staring at his boss who shrugged.

“I don’t know if she is, Jensen.”

At that Jensen blinked. Was Clay seriously suggesting Stel had quit for good? “What? I don’t-why?”

“Why do you think?” For the first time since Jensen had started speaking, Clay’s frustration was evident in his tone. “After your bunk up in Mexico she finished with Evan and she’s cut up, big time.”

Jensen took a deep breath, as the flood of relief he expected to hear once he’d got that news never came. Instead, he felt nothing but a deep sense of guilt at the fact Stella was upset. And he was part of the cause of that.

“She’s hurting Jake, and I think this time it’s just gotten too much.” Clay finished, his voice a little less spiked than it had been. Jensen ran his hand through his hair, before he shook his head.

“Fuck.”

“Jensen, why don’t you call her?” Cougar looked at him and Jake rolled his eyes.

“You know I tried that, several times. She won’t answer my calls or messages.”

“And you’re gonna let that stop you?” Clay folded his arms across his chest and raised his brow. “What happened to fighting for your girl, Jensen?”

Jensen blinked, his eyes not leaving Clay as his words sunk in. He was right, he had to try and fix this.

“I need to go.” He mumbled before he turned and bolted from the office, a loud apology hitting their ears along with a shout from someone else he had clearly run into in his haste to leave.

There was a pause as both men simply stared at the open door, before Cougar broke the silence. “She’s coming back, right?”

“She didn’t say she wasn’t.” Clay nodded.

“So why did you make out to Jensen like she was done?” Cougar looked at Clay who simply smirked as he turned his head towards him.

“Why do you think?”

****

Less than ten minutes after leaving the office, Jake was in his car speeding down the freeway. With one hand he juggled his phone, pressing the button to call the one person he knew would help him.

“I’m coming home.” He blurted into the handset as soon as his call was answered and Jane gave a little scoff.

“I thought you might be.” Her voice was flat. “Rey called me last night on her way to pick Stel up, told me all about your hook up in Mexico. What the hell were you playing at, Jake!”

“Yeah, I know, I fucked up and I need to make it right. I’m on my way to the airport, I’ll be on the next flight into Logan that I can get and I need you to pick me up.”

There was a pause and Jane sighed. “Leave it with me, I’ll get online and see if I can book one for you.”

“Thanks.” He mumbled before he tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and pushed his foot down on the gas, hanging the exit that would connect him onto the road for DC and the Airport.

Jane called back ten minutes later saying there was a flight an hour or so later which he was on. He arrived twenty or so minutes later and parked in the first space he could find on the long stay car park. As he climbed out, he grabbed his wallet, phone and jacket and debated taking his kit bag but, deciding it would slow him down waiting through security, he left it and set off at a sprint to the departure area.

Thankfully, Military ID gives you certain privileges if you can sweet talk, and Jensen could sweet talk with the best of them, so he managed to skip most of the queues and made it to the gate as the last few people were boarding.

Whilst the flight was only an hour and fifteen, it was an hour and fifteen too long and he was restless for all of it. His leg was continually twitching, his hand running repeatedly through his hair and scratching the short layer of stubble that covered his chin and cheeks. He was aware that he was annoying the elderly woman sitting next to him as he could feel her glaring at him and in an attempt to keep his annoying, nervous little ticks to himself, he tried to read the paper that was in the seat pocket in front of him. But it was pointless, he’d been on the same article for twenty minutes, repeatedly losing his place as his thoughts strayed to Stella, so with a huff he folded it back up and leaned back, closing his eyes.

Whilst sleeping on transport wasn’t normally a problem, being in the Army you learnt to sleep when you could, it totally evaded him and he felt like crying in relief when the pilot announced their descent into Logan. As soon as their wheels were down, he attracted the attention of one of the attendants and begged her to let him off the flight first, citing a military emergency, once more flashing his ID. Five minutes later she returned, smiling at him.

“Follow me, Captain Jensen.”

With a relieved sigh he stood up, grabbing his jacket from the overhead locker and followed her to the door which was just opening into the tunnel.

“Thanks,” he nodded at her as the door was latched into place, “by the way, I love your dress.”

He set off at a sprint through the airport. More abuse of his military privileges saw him clear security in record time and he hurried into the arrivals lounge where he saw Jane waiting for him.

“You have no bag?” She frowned as he gave her a quick hug.

“I didn’t have time.” He shrugged and Jane rolled her eyes.

“From what Rey told me, Stella is gonna be here till next week...”

“Yeah but you booked me a flight I had like an hour to catch...”

“Because you said there was a mad panic!”

“And there is.” Jensen shrugged as they began to walk towards the exit. “Like I said, I need to speak to her.”

“So, what is your plan today?” Rey smirked at him a little as they headed over to the car park.

Jake swallowed. He’d spent the last few hours trying to come up with a plan of sorts and had failed, miserable, so there was only one option. “I’m just gonna tell her I’m sorry and how I feel about her, honestly.” He shrugged as they strode through the rows of parked cars. “She might listen, she might not but I can’t leave it how it was. I gotta try, Jane.”

“Yeah I know Jake.” Jane stopped at her car. “But have you ever thought you can’t always have what you want when you want it and how you want it? It’s always been like that little bro and she’s not a skateboard or a football, she’s a person.”

“I know she’s a person, Jane! But I have to tell her, if she doesn’t wanna listen then-“ he shrugged as Jane unlocked her car, “-at least I’ll know.”

“Well, good luck, you’re gonna need because, according to Rey she is really bad.” Jane climbed into the driver’s seat and Jensen dropped heavily into the passenger one. “Oh, and you might wanna avoid Rey.”

Jake scoffed as Jane reversed the car out of the space. “Rey doesn’t scare me.”

“No?” Jane threw him a look as she drove towards the barrier.

“Nope.” He sniffed, pausing. “She terrifies me.”

Between not wanting to disturb his parents and also being unable to face the inevitable lecture about his behaviour from his dad, at least not until he’d spoken to Stella, Jane suggested he stayed with them. So, Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at Jane’s home, Gracie barrelling out of the house to greet her uncle. He swung her up, giving her a huge cuddle as she began to chat to him about her school and soccer. Jensen tried to listen and pay attention, but his mind was whirring about how he was going to get Stella to meet him. As he walked into the kitchen, Rob handed him a beer and clapped his shoulder as he sank into a chair round the table, letting out a sigh.

After he’d had something to eat and a shower, borrowing some of Robert’s clothes he tried again to reach Stel but to no avail, her phone remained switched off. And this was how it went for the next twenty four hours or so. He also tried the landline but it was always Jules who picked up and he couldn’t face speaking to her either so each time he simply hung up like some huge big cowardly chicken.

So, as a last resort, he begged Jane to help him, something Rob urged her to do too, although his reasons were slightly more selfish- he was simply annoyed that Jake was wearing his clothes and drinking his beer and being a general pain in the ass.

“Okay, okay, just,” Jane bit her lip, “let me talk to Rey, see if I can figure something out.”

She grabbed her phone and left the room, Jensen’s focus remained on the door as he could hear her softly speaking outside, but not enough to make out her words. When she came back a few minutes later she took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Rey’s taken Stella shopping to pick up Julie’s birthday gift. On the way back she’s gonna detour and head to the little cafe in their village, just off the main road through. You need to be there at five.”

Jensen gave a sigh of relief as he stood up and hugged his sister. “I owe you big time.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t be surprised if Rey punches you in the face.” Jane looked at him and Jensen took a deep breath, giving a little shrug as he walked towards the door.

“Be worth it if I can get Stella to listen to me.”

****

“Don’t fuck this up, it’s Stel ok?”

“I know. I know. Look, I’ll call you later, once…” he paused to take a deep breath, “well, once I’ve talked to her.”

Jane smiled at her brother sympathetically and reached over to kiss his cheek, giving him a hug. “Good luck, bro.”

“Thanks,” Jensen voice came out almost as a whisper, “I’m gonna need it, sis.” Taking another deep breath, he got out of the car, gathering what little courage still remained in some forsaken part of his nervous system. “Go Petunias!”

He instinctively pulled the collar of his waterproof North Face jacket round his neck against the rain and started walking with determination to the brightly lit coffee shop at the other side of the street. He jogged to avoid a passing car and soon he was crossing the threshold and being engulfed by the warm atmosphere of the place. He didn’t have to scan the room much before he spotted both Stevenson siblings sat at one of the far corner tables and he made a mental note to thank Rey for having made Stella sit with her back to the door.

Jensen breathed in and walked a couple of steps more into the shop to catch Rey’s attention and a wave of excitement washed his body when he saw her get up and say something to Stella before heading as if she was going to the counter but after turning to check her sister wasn’t looking at her she walked to him and grabbed his arm as she passed.

“You’re lucky I’m not shoving your head up your fucking ass.” Rey hissed only for him to hear.

“Nice to see you too Rey.” He smiled at the woman nervously.

“Fuck you, Jake.” Rey spoke again through gritted teeth.

“You flirting with me, Rey? ‘Coz-”

But Jensen didn’t finish whatever stupid quip his mind had come up with as Rey scoffed and left. He watched her go, and when he saw her picking her coat from the rack next to the main door he sighed.

Good start, Jensen.

In an attempt to placate his nerves, Jensen ran his hand through his damp hair and headed to Stella’s table, his nostrils registering the smell of freshly brewed coffee and sugary treats for the first time since he had stepped foot on the place.

Stella, who was checking the messages on her phone, looked up as she sensed the presence of what she thought was her sister but, much to her surprise, it was Jake Jensen she was looking straight at as he sat down on the chair in front of her.

“Hey Stel.”

“Jake.” She whispered, gasping a little with shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Clay told me you’d come home and I had to talk to you.”

Stella rolled her eyes and was about to protest when the waitress came over with the drinks Rey and her had ordered and, after placing the hot cocoa mug in front of Stella, she looked at Jake confused.

“Oh it’s okay that’s mine thanks.” Jensen said as he nodded. The waitress simply shrugged and placed the coffee mug down before leaving

“Don’t suppose there’s any point me asking how you knew I’d be here.” Stella asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Jake spooning sugar into his drink. Jensen just shrugged as he kept on stirring his coffee, thinking it was a good thing she hadn’t run away the moment she had seen him. “Imma kill Rey.” She grumbled.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone.” Jensen offered, trying to keep it as simple and cool as possible.

“Maybe you should take a hint.” Stella sighed, knowing too well Jake Jensen had never been one for taking hints.

“Stel, why you being like this?” Jake frowned. “We didn’t leave it on a bad note after Mexico, I know you said it was a mistake but…”

Stella sighed again and looked down at her drink, not taking her eyes away from the random pattern of cinnamon sprinkles over the whipped cream. “I just need some headspace.” Her tone was a little softer than before, the surprise and anger at her sister setting her up slowly sweeping away. “That’s all, and you being here…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, instead she gripped her mug and took a drink and once she did she looked up to him for the very first time since she had started speaking only to realize Jensen was watching her, but his eyes weren’t looking straight at hers, they were fixed on something else.

“What?” She asked, varying between curious and concerned.

“Your ring.”

Well she hadn’t been expecting that. She cleared her throat and hesitated a little before asking. “What about it?”

“You had it in Mexico. Why are you suddenly wearing it again? You took it off months ago, when you started seeing Evan.” Jensen inquired, his eyes now effectively meeting Stella’s and he saw the surprise in her expression. “Yeah, I noticed Stel.”

“I actually stopped wearing it the day you dumped me for the second time.” She shot back and Jensen flinched at her tone. Her softness had disappeared and she was being snappy again. He only hoped she didn’t clam up before he could get his point made.

“I didn’t dump you, we were…” He sighed. That path wouldn’t lead him anywhere with Stel, so he decided to take a detour, see where it led. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Stella gave a little shake of her head. “Don’t read anything into it. I’m wearing it because I want to.”

“But, why?” He pressed again.

“I saw it in my jewellery box the day I was going to Mexico when I was looking for some earrings.” She shrugged as she explained herself. “It’s a nice ring.”

Jensen didn’t say anything. Satisfied as he was with Stella’s reasoning, he gave her a knowing smirk.

“Don’t smirk at me like that Jake.” She warned him as she narrowed her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Jensen placated her before taking another sip of his coffee. “Clay told me you had ended it with Evan.”

“Yeah I bet you’re loving it.” Stella scoffed.

Jake frowned at her accusation. “No.” He shook his head. “I could never be glad you’re hurting.”

“And whose fault is that?” She glared at him.

“Are you saying it’s mine?” Jake blurted out, leaning his forearms on the table. “Look, the morning after we... you know, you told me you were splitting up with Evan and it was nothing to do with us sleeping together.”

“You’re right, I was!” Stella raised her voice, attracting the attention of the two women at the table next to theirs. “But that wasn’t an excuse for me to go and simply jump back into bed with you!” She hissed. “God, I’m so weak. Why did I give in to you?”

“I didn’t force you into bed, Stella!” Jake protested, visibly hurt.

“I never said that.” She shook her head, but avoided his stare.

“Well it kinda sounded like that’s what you were saying.” Jensen shook his head and leaned back on his chair. “You know, you can deny it all you want but that night was good, and I know you felt it too otherwise you wouldn’t be here so upset and accusing me of being the reason you’re hurt.”

Stella stayed silent. The confidence in Jake’s voice left no room for her denying it, there was no point, so she just looked away.

“Why have you got such a problem admitting there’s still something there between us?” Jake broke her silence.

“I’m not admitting shit, Jake. You can go now, back the way you came.” She shrugged, hoping her voice sounded as confident as Jensen’s.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He shook his head before taking another sip from his drink.

“I think you should.”

“Okay,” Jake placed his coffee mug down again, “you look me in the eye and say you feel nothing for me at all and I’ll go.”

“Piss off, Jake!”

“Not until you tell me.” Jensen challenged her as he crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe he was pushing too much, but he had to try.

“Don’t tell me what to do Jacob. You don’t wanna go? Fine!” Stella shrugged as she got up and grabbed her purse which was hanging from her chair headrest. When Jensen finally registered what was happening he called after her but Stella just ignored him and left the coffee shop after taking her coat from the rack. Sighing with exasperation, Jake stood up and tossed some money down on the table before jogging after her.

The drizzle that was falling when he had first arrived had now turning into a real downpour. The cold air and heavy rain hit Jensen’s face when he stepped out and he needed a few seconds to spot Stella who was walking up the street under the rain, her wool coat failing to stop her from getting increasingly soaked. Jensen started jogging towards her as the same time he cursed himself for not having an umbrella with him.

“Stel.” He panted as he grabbed her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” She snapped, freeing herself from Jake’s grip.

He sighed but looked at her with determination. “You just can’t say it, can you?” But Stella wasn’t giving in and kept silent, staring back at him and after a few too many seconds Jensen had no option but to give up so he looked down and then back up, tears already brimming in his eyes. “My mistake. I’ll, erm, I’ll leave you alone.”

Stella watched, as he turned to go, his shoulders slumping before something inside her cracked, driven completely by the fact he looked and sounded so damned broken.

“Wait!” Stella pleaded, and he stopped, turning to face her as she took a deep breath, looking upwards before she shook her head. “I…damned, fine, I love you, okay. Is that what you wanna hear?” She snigged and shook her head. “I love you Jake but that doesn’t mean shit. I’m tired of hurting.”

“Me too Stel!” Jensen blurted out, his voice cracking. “Jesus, I hurt every dammed day when I saw you with that prick, because I only had myself to blame. I’m a fucking idiot and I get now, my reasons, you know I thought I was doing the right thing, that it would save us both so much heartache but all it did was cause us so much more.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Stella frowned at his sudden ramble. “You were doing the right thing? What kind of shit excuse is that? The right thing for what?”

“For you! I saw it in your eyes, the day we found out our postings and we were gonna be split up because we weren’t married!” Jensen tried to explain himself as the tears began to fall from Stella’s eyes. “The hurt and fear in those beautiful eyes, Stel and all I could think about was how worse it would be if something happened and,” he sighed as his eyes silently pleaded with her to show some sign his words were getting to her and when he spoke again, his voice was softer than ever. “I thought by ending it, then it would mean we could both move on and if something happened then you wouldn’t have to go through the amount of pain your mom did when she lost your dad.”

“Don’t you think I had the right to make that decision myself?” Stella practically shrieked at him, her chest heaving. “God, you’re a fucking asshole Jacob Jensen.” She sniffed and made a pause to rub her nose and wipe the tears and raindrops that were falling down her cheeks. “What the fuck? I’ve spent the last fucking five years of my life wondering what the fuck happened, trying to find a reason why you suddenly didn’t love me!”

“Stel, I never stopped loving you!” Jensen yelled back, before he took a deep breath and shook his head. “How could I? I’ve been in love with you since we were eleven.” He moved closer to her, trying to hold her hands in his.

“You have a strange way of showing it!” She screamed back, moving her hands to dodge him.

“I know, I know. I don’t have anything else to say other than I’m so sorry. And I love you.” He choked out. “I always will.”

Stella sighed, tears still running down her face. She was exhausted and tired of listening to him apologize over and over again. “All right, you’re sorry. So what? Apology accepted. Feeling better? You can go back to Virginia now.”

“If that’s what you want.” Jake said so softly Stella almost missed it as he put his hands in his coat pockets.

“Why suddenly it is what I want that matters, Jake?” She railed at him once more. “It’s always been about you and your stupid ideas and your stupid needs!”

“What do you want me to say, Stel?” He pleaded, his voice was beginning to break again. And, as Stella looked at him, his face suddenly illuminated by the headlights of a passing car, she realised that she had never seen him so vulnerable before.

“I don’t want you to say anything, Jake.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I just want you to make up your mind once and for all and stop fucking with my brain.”

“Make up my mind?” Jake scoffed. “Have you listened to a word I just said?” He stepped forward a little. “You know what I want.”

Stella shuddered under his stare at those last words before muttering. “No, I don’t.”

“You! I want you.” He blurted out, his eyes never leaving hers. “Give me another chance baby. I swear, I’ll make you happy, I’ll do anything.”

“Jake…” Stella’s voice was a strangled whisper as she shook her head and Jensen sighed.

“What is it that is making you hold back?” He pressed, rain dripping off his hair down his face.

At that, she swallowed. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? Talk to me, Stelly.”

“Of being broken again, Jake. Because I don’t think I can fix myself again.” Stella blinked as the raindrops gathered on her eyelashes.

“You won’t have to.” Jake was fast to assure her. “I promise you that much. Just let me show you I can be the man you need, the man you deserve.”

“You promised me before you’d always be there Jake.” Stella started sobbing again. “And you left me.”

“I know, I know baby and I blame myself every day for that I... I just need you to trust me. I love you, I love you so fucking much, Stelly I can’t even think of you not being around.” His voice cracked completely on the last word and he sniffed loudly, his shoulders shuddering as he took a deep breath.

And, suddenly Stella’s defences, those defences she had fought so much to keep up, were nothing more than paper, paper that was disintegrating after being soaked by the rapidly falling drops of both her tears and the rain. Before she could draw in the air her body needed, she fell forward into Jake’s arms, melting into his form as she sobbed, her face pressing into the cold, wet outer layers of his clothing.

Jensen’s hands folded around her back, drawing her in closer and she could feel her body shake. “Stelly, shh, don’t cry baby,” he managed a whispered choke as she clung to him for dear life, “everything is gonna be all right. You’ll see.”

And as she continued to cry, Jensen simply held her, rocking her gently from side to side as he pressed a kiss to her wet hair before he pulled back, his hands cupping her face as he swiped under her eyes with his thumbs, the tenderness of the action more than Stella’s heart could hold.

“Please Stelly. Just give me this, ‘coz I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you don’t.”

As a response to his plea, Stella leaned into his hand, kissing his palm. “I never wanted you to leave in the first place.” She whispered and turned her eyes to his, to see a soft smile spreading across his face.

Jake swallowed, trying to find his voice. He wanted to speak, he wanted to speak real bad, because, God, there were so many things he wanted to tell her, so many built up wants and needs from over the years they were apart. But he couldn’t form anything more than her name. “Stel,” and, before he could attempt anything else, she reached up and grabbed his face tenderly before kissing him, softly.

The rain ran down their faces to where their lips met, each of them tasting the cold drops, but instead of detracting from the intensity of the moment, it simply took them to new heights. As Stella pushed her lips in more firmly, the wave that ran through her was intoxicating, a connection that showed the strength of the feeling, the mutual need. She paid no attention to the water which was soaking them through to chill their skin, because the sheer burst of love they were sharing was more than enough to keep her warm.

Nature might have brought the rain but Jake’s inner sunshine always came through for her in the end.

As Jake kissed the droplets from her mouth, she felt his lips smile against hers, making her head swim as she pulled back to take in his beautiful face and he was beaming at her.

“This is it, Jake. You fuck this up and I’m out of your life for good. In every way.” She declared with a sniff, but the warning felt less of a warning to Jake as she was smiling at him as she clung to his neck.

“Not gonna happen.” He smiled back. “We’re gonna do great and we’re gonna get married and make gorgeous babies.”

“You’re a fucking moron.” She snorted.

“Yeah.” He shrugged casually before tightening his grip on her and leaning in for another kiss, but it was cut short this time by Jake’s stomach growling, making Stella pull back and arch her brow at him.

“I haven’t eaten all day.” He offered as explanation.

She chuckled and then gave him a big grin. “Wanna stop at the Schwarma stand on the corner of Ruby Ave?”

“Yes.” He groaned more than agreed. Stella smiled as Jake placed his arm round her, pulling her close to kiss her head as they set off. The gesture once so familiar to them that it filled them with the warmth that the merciless rain was denying them. “Hey, does this count as a date?” He quipped.

“Don’t push it, Jake.” Stella groaned as she jabbed at his ribs.

****

“What the hell have you two been up to?” Julie’s loud voice rang out and the pair of them stopped dead as they walked into the kitchen from the Mud Room, looking at her as she stood, her arms folded, leaning against the counter, wearing her best stern mom expression. “The pair of you are soaked!”

“Yeah, it’s raining.” Jensen nodded and Julie narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t get clever with me, Jacob. You’re not too big that I won’t give you a slap.”

He flashed her his best, cheeky smile and she rolled her eyes, her attention flicking to Stella before she frowned a little, her gaze then moving to their hands which were tangled together. She blinked, and then her face softened and she gave Stella a fond smile.

“You guys good?”

They looked at each other and Stella smiled, turning back to her mom. “Yeah. Yeah we are. But, erm, we should probably go get into some dry clothes.”

“There’s some sweats and a T-shirt in your room Stel, I think they’re Jake’s.” Julie smiled. “Drop your soaked things outside the bathroom and I’ll run them through the wash and drier.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Stella grinned as Jake let out a little noise of approval.

“Jules, you’re awesome.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes but the smile never left her face. “Go on. I’ll fix you both some dinner.”

“It’s ok, we already ate so I think we’re just gonna...” She trailed off as Jake gently squeezed her hand and Julie nodded.

“Okay, well I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

Stella dropped her head, shyly as Jake grinned. “Yeah, Jules. Have a good night.”

Thirty or so minutes later they were both warm, dry and settled in bed, Jake in the pair of grey sweatpants that had indeed belonged to him. As Stella snuggled up to him, he pressed a kiss to her head realising that it had been years since they’d done this, just been together, as a couple. He felt her shift a little next to him and he glanced down to see her blinking as she struggled to stay awake. Jake could tell she was exhausted and whilst he wanted nothing more than to get her on her back and love her the best way he could, he knew how tired she was, both physically and mentally. It had been an emotional day, hell, week even, and there was a lot to process. So instead he shifted a little so he was led on his side facing her, and drew her in for another soft, deep kiss, his thumb gently stroking her cheek bone as she sighed happily, his lips slowly and sensually caressing hers.

“Do you remember the first time we shared a bed, Stelly?” Jake grinned as he pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She snorted. “Summer camp when we were thirteen. I could feel a storm brewing, so I came to your tent.”

“And we got caught so your mom came to ours,” Jake grinned as she gave a chuckle, “sat with mine around the kitchen table, giving us both ‘the talk’. Good times.”

“I remember how it grossed the pair of us out.” Stella giggled. “You pointed out that Rey and Jane would share a bed when they stayed over with each other and your dad was protesting that it was different because they were just friends.”

“So were we at that point.” Jensen mused as Stella’s hand traced his bicep.

“Yeah that’s what you said. And then you pointed out that they might have been lesbians so his argument was invalid.”

Jensen snorted. “He was being platonaphobic, and of course when I told him so, he had no idea what it meant.”

“No one did because it was a word you just made up!” Stella laughed and Jake shrugged.

“It means you’re biased against platonic relationships.” He grinned before he took a deep breath. “Truth is, Stelly, there was nothing platonic on my side even then. I wanted you from the day I saw you.”

“You were eleven, Jake!” Stella shook her head.

“Just be glad it wasn’t until I was fourteen that I started getting boners over you.”

“You’re disgusting.” She rolled her eyes and Jensen pouted.

“Hey, don’t complain. You were in all my fantasies”

“That’s a back handed compliment.” She shook her head and Jensen flashed her a cheeky wink.

“It’s the palm of my hand that remembers.”

At that she slapped his arm and he laughed, pulling her closer to him as she nestled into his warmth, the top of her head tucked under his chin.

And that was exactly how she fell asleep a few minutes later. Jake felt her relax against him completely, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before he too drifted under, happy and satisfied that he was holding his girl in his arms, right where she belonged.

**** Chapter 8

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

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hajimewhore · 3 years

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Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 2.7k words ➷Humor, fluff, angst, awkwardness, pining, swearing, my tendency to write introspective, the usual stuff in here ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, ✈Part 6, Part 7

“Hajime, let’s walk together without Tooru.”

You hear a voice call out to you the second you step out of the gym. The abrupt call startles you when you register it’s your own voice—it feels a tad cryptic, considering you’re still not used to hearing it unless it’s coming from you.

Hajime is glancing around, keeping his voice low, clearly wary of any prying ears or casual listeners.

“Huh? Yeah, alright.”

You jog up to his side, exiting the school grounds with him. A worry creeps in your gut, but you push it aside to hear what he has to say first. No use getting anxious when he hasn’t even said anything yet.

It’s interesting, your strides are much longer than you’re used to, so you have to actively think about matching your pace with Hajime’s currently shorter legs (you hate to call your legs short, but there is an obvious comparison).

It’s something you never worried about before, considering you were always the one surrounded by long-legged bastards, but it has you thinking that Hajime must’ve always consciously walked in step with you. Even Tooru tended to take long strides (as if he were the main character in an anime, leading the way for the extras).

You try to quell the metaphorical butterflies that are making themselves at home inside your ribcage, but it’s rapidly replacing the anxiety that was stirring from Hajime’s abrupt request.

You’re supposed to be serious right now. You can’t be caught up with how sweet and caring Hajime is, even though he doesn’t voice it and generally has an attitude that needs minor adjustment, but you’re constantly reminded every day how his love language is more about acts of service and silent gestures with no intent for acknowledgement and—

“What’s up?”

You say with as much nonchalance as you can muster, it’s best to cut that train of thought off, especially when said train is being directed by Iwaizumi Hajime—not only filling your brain but the space directly next to you.

You can only assume there’s something pressing he wanted to talk about, maybe practice, judging by his sour expression. Not that he doesn’t always have that expression, but lately he’s been more conscious of the faces he makes in your body. There must be something gnawing at him to let that slip.

But if you’re being completely honest, you’d rather not think about practice after the shit show of a performance you had earlier.

“Something…” he pauses, not quite sure how to phrase it, “weird, happened. And I really don’t want to talk about it, but you should know.”

Hajime looks highly agitated, and very uncomfortable. He’s refusing to meet you in the eye, not particularly focused on anything but the air to his right. He’s struggling to find a way to busy his hands, crossed over his chest—nope not that again– shoving them in his track pants pockets, before deciding to whole up in his jacket pockets.

You think about what could possibly make him that level of awkward, but only one thing comes to mind,

“You didn’t start your period, did you?”

“WHA- WHAT? NO, no, fuck,”

Hajime’s eyes blow wide when you unintentionally remind him about the existence of said bodily function. Is that something he’s going to have to worry about? He needs out of this body, stat.

“Good, cause I just ended, so if you started that would’ve been a little worrying.”

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, and he grimaces, red hue dusting his cheeks, he’s clearly perturbed by the information and realization that was just forced upon him.

“Good to know. Hopefully we’ll swap before the next... one...”

You roll your eyes, but can’t exactly blame him for his discomfort. As much as you’d like a man to physically endure and comprehend the plight of women, you also hope you’ll be able to switch soon.

Besides, that's something best cursed upon someone bad mannered, like Tooru.

It does succeed in reminding you that you and Hajime should put your nose to the grind, if it wasn’t urgent before it’s imperative now that you figure out ways that could possibly switch you back.

Hajime clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, snapping you back to his current dilemma,

“Someone asked you out.”

You blink at the information, that’s what he wanted to talk about? You’ll certainly take that over talking about your shit show of a practice tonight.

“Whaaaat? Again? Jeeeez, I guess I’m just popular today.”

You stick your tongue out with a giggle, sounding extremely misplaced with his voice.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t reprimand you for it, and it makes you tick a brow in curiosity.

“...so uh, did you shoot ‘em down? Finally understanding some of the struggles that women go through, huh?”

You attempt to laugh off the unpleasant aura that’s starting to hang thick in the air.

“Not exactly. I said I’d text him, I wasn’t sure what your answer would be.”

At that, you freeze, turning back to stare at him in shock.

“What? You actually considered my feelings instead of shoving a boy out of my life?”

You halt your steps to turn and grip Hajime by the shoulders, faux tears threatening to spring up and burst any minute. You gaze at him with all of the awe of a proud mother seeing her child matured and all grown up.

“Don’t say it like that! And knock that look off my face, before I do it myself,” he sounds as gruff as he can with a feminine tone, “and of course I care about your feelings! The men that like you are just shit.”

He turns his nose up derisively.

Hajime always figured that was the case, at least, that no man was good enough for his best friend, and the ones that liked you wouldn’t know what to do with you. All that ambition, attitude, spark, with a tendency for being too kind and too caring. What could a high school boy who dicks around in the back of the classroom ever put forward in a relationship with you?

But it seems he was a bit misconstrued. While he’s positive he marked those boys right, there may have been a little jealousy at play he was never made aware of until recent events (in other words, the Matsukawa Incident–he’ll refer to said event as such now).

Hajime unintentionally acted with his own self interest, driving away any boy that made eyes at you, and hid behind his self-proclaimed ‘protective best friend’ title, told himself it was fine, because Oikawa was doing the same—they both knew what was best for their friend.

As if you couldn’t decide for yourself.

Hajime clenches jaw, he should’ve known something was off with him the moment he started going along with Oikawa’s antics.

He doesn’t feel particularly bad or regretful about driving away those glaringly transparent guys, but he does feel a pang of guilt for having done it without your say in the matter.

“Well, thanks, I guess. But who are you talking about anyways, I’m dying to know who’s won Hajime’s stamp of approval.”

You look at him with curiosity brimming from tip to toe, and a deep frown tugs at the corners of his lips, the dread and anxiety he felt before coming back full force. Now that he’s placed the feelings he has for you, it’s demoralizing to see you interested in other men.

“It was Matsukawa,”

Now Matsukawa was different.

Hajime knew him personally, and considered him a close friend. They often spent free time together, had lunch together. They of course played volleyball together, and judging from that alone Hajime could tell that Matsukawa was a man with talent, passion, and drive. He was good natured, and Hajime is positive he’d treat you with the respect you deserved.

“He was the one that asked you out.”

Your eyes widen at the information, and Hajime feels his shoulders tense. Is that excitement? What will you have to say about that?

Well, if you like Matsukawa, Hajime will just have to deal with it.

He easily turned away other boys and suitors, but the fact that it’s Matsukawa changes everything, it’s thrown a fat wrench in his love life (if he can even call your relationship that, he’s starkly aware you’ve always been ‘just friends’, and the Matsukawa Incident isn’t exactly helping any).

Hajime knows Matsukawa can make you happy, there’s no reason to stick his nose into that.

When you’re out of this body swap situation, Hajime will just have to support you from the sidelines. But even then, as your best friend, he has to be with you every step of the way.

Your solo time with Hajime will practically become non-existent if you get yourself a boyfriend. No more movie nights with the two of you, passed out on the couch before the halfway point, no more casual dinner dates, no more coming to each other’s houses at ungodly hours because the other person is only seconds away.

Hajime guesses he could still have all those things, but with the addition of Matsukawa–that thought sits bitter in his mind. And Hajime loves his friend more dearly than he cares to admit, and loves you more than he thought he did, but his heart breaks at the thought of the two of you together.

“Mattsun?”

His spiraling train of thought is dashed the second you burst out into a boisterous laugh, something Hajime wasn’t expecting.

“He’s such a flirt. You should’ve just brushed him off!”

Hajime states in his bafflement. Matsukawa, a flirt? He thought that was just in the moment. What are you talking about? You’re talking about the same Matsukawa, right?

“What? I didn’t know if you liked him or not, I couldn’t say no!”

His face heats with a scowl as he attempts to defend himself, Hajime is in disbelief he let that get to him so much.

“Oh no, you didn’t get all awkward did you? Now he’s gonna think I have a crush on him.”

You huff, and Hajime grows more confused by the second.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

And now he feels the need to defend poor Matsukawa’s honor, though he won’t deny the feeling of relief washing away his anxiety like a massive ocean wake. It’s as if the salt water is mending the dull cracks that started chipping at his heart, your full smile and animated laugh uplifting him.

“Not really, I guess. But he flirts too much, and I always put him in his place! But now that you’ve gone all doe-eyed school girl on him, he’s gonna think his charm or whatever worked.”

You click your tongue, and Hajime bristles, how could he forget about how bad your personality could be? Any time he finds himself in awe over you, it’s always short lived.

“I did not go ‘school girl’ on him, I was confused the entire time! I didn’t even know he was flirting with me at first!”

He rants, seemingly back to himself, and you bite your laughter at the outburst.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that, Hajime.”

“One of my best friends and teammates... was flirting with me.”

“Technically, me.”

“I can’t look at him the same way.”

“If you want, I’ll let you go on the date. But when I’m back in my body, I’m cutting that off.”

Hajime sends you a look that sends a chill down your spine, vibrating from the intensity of it.

“Kidding, Hajime, kidding!”

You put your hands up in defense and Hajime grunts, decidedly not beating your ass, fortunately.

Though, Hajime does feel a swell of happiness at the fact that you don’t seem interested in Matsukawa.

“I guess I should let you know...” you pause and Hajime hums in acknowledgement, “make sure to turn everyone down for me.”

Hajime blinks at your request, and attempts to not sound so desperate and eager when he speaks,

“Uh, sure. Everyone? ‘don’t have anyone you like?”

He figures he’s pushing his luck with that one, but he wants to know the answer, even if he’s shooting in the dark.

“No, not interested in anyone in our classes, or your teammates, for that matter.”

You clarify, and he awkwardly glances away at the pointed comment.

“Right. I can do that,” he glances to you before continuing, “the same goes for me.”

“You already told me that!”

“You need a reminder. I don’t want a random girlfriend I’m not interested in when I’m back in my body, okay?!”

And the reminder was so good to hear, you’re happy Hajime doesn’t have an interest in anyone, even if that gives you the smallest chance.

“Okayyy, okay!”

You laugh, and he hides the way his lips turn up into a smile.

“Now let’s go to my place, we have to do more research on our situation.”

You walk alongside Hajime, ignoring your buzzing pocket, no doubt Tooru. You can’t exactly have him crashing your research sessions, so you decide to come up with an excuse for later.

Days in a row you’ve done research with no concise evidence or method of solving your body swap, you’re starting to feel disheartened by the situation, but at least the weekend is starting.

Even if it’s nearly impossible to come up with anything helpful, you’ll be able to research more and not worry about putting up a front at school or with yours and Hajime’s teammates.

“We don’t even know where to start! This shouldn’t even be possible!”

The research Hajime has also done leads to zero results, of course. And both your frustrations are piled as high as the plushies and extra pillows Hajime threw off your bed.

You flop onto your back, said extra pillows and plushies cushioning your fall. You’re surprised Hajime left some of them on the bed, it seems he had discarded a majority of them.

You can’t believe it, Mr. Tubbs, the big stuffed cat Tooru gifted you years ago, cast aside, face down on the carpet.

If you weren’t so frustrated by your research developments (or lack of), you’d be amused that the only plushes with bed privilege were the ones Hajime won for you at fairs, or gifted you in the past.

“There’s no legitimate research, for obvious reasons, and most of it is just stories or movies.”

Hajime sighs, browsing through tabs on your laptop.

“Are we just going to have to wait?” You bite your tongue, “Hajime, what if we’re just stuck like this?”

The sharp look Hajime sends you makes you freeze up.

“Don’t talk like that. We’ll figure something out.”

He says it so resolutely that it makes you believe him, or at least want to believe in him. And you have no shortage of belief in Hajime’s abilities–if he’s confident you’ll get through this, then you will get through this.

“If you say so, I’ll believe you. Sorry, Hajime.”

He hums at your response, eyeing you carefully as you continue to scroll on your phone through a rabbit’s hole of mysterious threads, and cryptic posts.

Your phone pings with messages from Tooru, the buzz startling you out of an odd Reddit thread that seemed more like a troll or a work of fiction than anything.

The message(s) are in all caps, and you swipe them out as they come up rapidly. You’ll have to think of yet another excuse to give him later, but you’re running out of ideas.

It was suspicious enough as it is that both you and Hajime had a dentist appointment in the same week–Tooru not-so-kindly pointed out that dentist offices were closed after your school’s hours, and it didn’t help that Hajime made the same excuse a day after you.

The both of you were even forced to skip out on your monthly movie night together, and you and Hajime can only claim to be sick for the night so many times.

You don’t intend to, but you wind up forgetting to message Tooru back that night.

The stress is stacked high, everything feels personally against you, and you’re too overwrought to focus on anything other than yours and Hajime’s body swap, let alone school, and especially volleyball practice. Which, is increasingly making Tooru more insufferable than usual.

Swiping out of yet another cryptic site, you briefly worry about what viruses that could’ve creeped onto your phone before searching again.

Mr. Tubbs making an excellent cushion, you roll onto your side as you scroll away.

A/N: I’m excited to say I’ve got the rest of the story mapped out from here, I usually just wing it and have zero follow through lol, but I’m trying my best!

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png @sexy0android

Masterlist, Part 7

#hq!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu reader insert #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime/reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu humor

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doorsclosingslowly · 3 years

Text

They've Made of Our Bodies a Bleeding Stair

Jesper and Kaz try to retrieve Inej from Ketterdam without being recognized and murdered—and without Kaz getting ransomed back to Ravka as the the wayward Sun Summoner.

11k | Sun Summoner Kaz AU pt. 2 | Jesper/Kaz, Inej, past Kaz/Darkling content note: non-linear narrative, explicit sex, roleplay of past rape

“I want you to be him.”

“Of course,” Jesper replies. Then, articulately, once his brain’s caught up, “Uh. What?”

“The Darkling.” Kaz has turned his face away. He’s looking at the ramshackle marriage bed that takes up the bulk of this room he’s lured Jesper into. He unerringly picked the right closed door, too; he skipped the squeaky floorboards, as if he knew the exact layout of this—but it’s Kaz. He knows everything, even some dilapidated house in the Kerch countryside. The bed was probably a masterpiece of craftsmanship, when it was carved from some dark wood, a thousand years ago or whatever. The way it looks, it must’ve been old already when the previous owners of this farmhouse got it, and from the state of the house, they abandoned this place decades ago. Quite a lot of the furniture’s missing, either sold off when the place was left or stolen afterwards, but that bed was too worthless already.

The mattress is still there too. Probably fucking teeming with moth larvae and maggots and their combined accumulated shit, so it doesn’t bode too well for Jesper, how forcefully Kaz is staring at it.

“Please say it doesn’t involve the bed.”

“You said yes,” Kaz rasps, which is all the information Jesper needs to start gagging. Fake-gagging, for now, but if he sees even one wriggly little worm he’ll…

Bed. Darkling. That still doesn’t really… Want you to be him—oh—

“Yes, Jesper.” And how the hell with his ramrod tense back still turned towards Jesper—Jesper, who’s done nothing at all, hasn’t said anything except to register his displeasure at the idea of bathing in insect faeces and their squirming little manufacturers!—how the hell Kaz has realized that Jesper’s figured out what he probably means—it must be a confidence trick. Kaz likes those. But how—yeah, it’s not the point, but trying to understand whatever magic Kaz is using on him right now is much, much better for Jesper’s sanity than dwelling on the fact that Kaz might just have insinuated that he wants Jesper to pretend to be the Darkling, specifically the Darkling from that time he told Jesper about back in the Little Palace, the time he threw up after. The time he thought he could suppress his discomfort with touch long enough to seduce the Darkling into a partnership—seduce seduce, which means he wants—to flirt with Jesper? To sleep with Jesper? Is he actually saying he—

Oh. There’s a cracked mirror on the wall above the bed. That’s how Kaz saw his face.

Jesper would chalk the hallucination up to a hangover, but he’s not even drunk. Neither is Kaz, unless this old ruin of a farmhouse they broke into this morning is hiding barrels of wine the local youth haven’t made off with yet. Also, if he was hallucinating Kaz propositioning him he would—well, Jesper at least hopes he’d have enough self-respect not to make himself a stand-in for the man who bought and imprisoned Kaz for two years, controlled him by using his fears and modifying his body and cutting him off from every other person in the whole court, taking every single object he could have used to protect himself, and whatever those weird spines in Kaz’ chest are he’s probably responsible for them too. Jesper would not, actually, like the first and probably only time he’s allowed to kiss Kaz to be some kind of revenge-by-proxy thing where he recites the Darkling’s lines while Kaz swallows back bile, and then Kaz beats him up. Or murders him. It’s pathetic, but Jesper always imagined that kiss a little sweeter. Kissing over Haskell’s corpse. Kissing over the Darkling’s corpse. Kissing over the corpse of some other piece of shit who’s stupid enough to try using Kaz as their possession.

“Just warning you, I don’t have the costume or the script, so don’t expect something worthy of the Komedie Brute,” is what Jesper says instead.

Kaz’ eyebrow quirks. “You’re acted before, haven’t you? Improvised. You can flirt your way into anything. That was the main reason I kept you around.”

“You kept me around because I’m gorgeous, funny, and an incredible shot. I just play myself, if it’s seduction! Why would I improve upon perfection?”

“This isn’t seduction. He’s already locked me in the Little Palace for months at this point. Two escape attempts have failed. This is… speeding up the process,” Kaz says, nonchalantly enough it makes Jesper want to puke.

Which won’t help anything. He’s already agreed. And Kaz doesn’t care about moral objections, only practical ones. “I need more info. I haven’t actually met the Darkling.”

“You’ve met powerful men. You’ve met men who believe their righteous cause entitles them. You’ve met men mired in greed and vengeance—you’ve met me.”

“I like you.”

“Pretend you don’t, then. You used to complain about me in the Slat—of course I know, I knew everything that went on in the Dregs. You hated the way I seemed to know everything, and held it over you—so does he. You disliked my single-minded focus, the way you all seemed like pawns to me, my mockery. The way I held myself as something far superior to you. That’s a start.” Kaz limps a slow quarter circle around Jesper, and his dark eyes are burning with loathing. Jesper would hold him if he could. “You’re not asking why?”

“Uh, now that you mention—”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

Jesper sighs. Of course. He’s never expected anything else. Then he stands up straight, assuming his best the stick in my ass is so long it’s knocked the word fun from my brain pose that hopefully may pass for authoritative and slimes out, “What business, Mr Brekker?”

“Sun Summoner. Or Sunshine. He figured out Brekker’s a fake name on the first day.”

“Kaz Brekker’s a fake name?!” Jesper should have seen that coming, really… what does he even know about Kaz Brekker, truly? Except—

“It’s a name. It’s real enough. It’s feared. It’s mine.” Kaz’s eyes travel over the cobwebbed wall of the farmhouse bedroom, as if he was searching for the next lie to spin. Except that isn’t one of Kaz’ tells—Jesper’s seen him bamboozle and convince marks of the most stupid tales, and when Kaz wants them to believe him, he looks earnest. Young, depending on the role he plays, old, eager, stupid or wise. He doesn’t bother lying to Dregs, or rather: he doesn’t bother convincing them, usually. All his words are backed by the brutality of his cane. Who could be stupid enough to question even his weirdest utterances. “It just happens not to be one I was born with.”

“So what you’re saying is, the Darkling’s just not Kerch enough to get you?” Jesper grins. “Ketterdam, really—you know, I always really liked that about the Barrel, that healthy dose of ‘You are who you want and we don’t give a fuck to correct you.’ Anyway. Got it. You’re Kaz Brekker, but he’s a dick. Mr Sunbeam, what brings you into my office this evening?”

“The fete, Aleks.” Kaz shrugs off his coat, and then the purple kefta, too. He holds out the kefta in front of him, like he’s expecting Jesper to put it on. Well. That’s as good a start as any, and so Jesper turns and lets Kaz dress him into the robe he never wanted to wear.

“Then he says, ‘You must be nervous. After all, there are few gatherings in the Ketterdam slums that involve such spectacle.’” Kaz has sanded down his rasp somewhat, sounding almost smooth and seductive. He goes into a spiel of the Ravkan court and the inferiority of the Barrel that thankfully, he carries all by himself. Jesper wouldn’t even know what to say, except ‘Stop talking shit about the Barrel, you prick’ and that’s not exactly in character.

Kaz’ eyes periodically dart down to Jesper’s hands, and he realizes he’s fidgeting with the hem of the kefta’s sleeves. He stops.

“I am ready,” Kas says in his normal voice. His normal talking to a mark voice. “I realized what this demonstration represents—that I belong to something greater. It is as you said—we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope. We. Together.” He stands up straight. Equally on both his legs. He winces. He’s not holding his cane, Jesper realizes. He’s not wearing his gloves. “I am ready to stand by your side. We should be partners. The Sun and the Dark.”

“Uh… great. We’ll be great together. Do great things. Better partners than enemies. Some of those rumours even freaked me out, you know—that kid with the wind-up toy in his throat—”

“Think before you speak, Jesper,” Kaz hisses. “Never let me lead. Never give me control. Every word is a cue to corral your prey where you want it—whether a compliment or a barely-there hidden threat.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Sometimes.” Kaz meets Jesper’s eyes. The tense mask of his face breaks into a smirk. “To be honest, I find the subtle craft of manipulation is wasted on you. You’ll obey anyway. Let’s go back to the start, and focus.”

Jesper shrugs off the kefta again and then lets Kaz dress him, again. He does his best imitation of Kaz, of that early Kaz before Jesper learned how he takes his coffee and before he saw the brutal twist of his face, that one time when the Dime Lions had Jesper on his knees and shoved a gun in his mouth. He plays the imperious tactician in his office who told his goons to drag Jesper up four flights of stairs with a bag over his head, ready to be shot for his debts, and then sold him on the one thing that gave his life meaning.

He insults Dirtyhands’ father and mother to his face, and gets really into it, too: Ketterdam’s full of idiots who’d miss the love of their life because they were busy trying to pry cobblestones off the streets to sell for half a sausage, and the harbour’s so filthy even the fish won’t fuck in it—keeping the brothels in good fish-ness, haha. Because the fish rent rooms so they don’t get fishy sex diseases from the water. Do fish get diseases from sex?

“Kill me now,” Kaz moans, and that one’s probably deserved.

“Anyway, my Sun Summoner, I’m sure you’ll perform well,” Jesper says with just the tiniest hint of slime.

“I am ready. I realized what this demonstration represents—that I belong to something greater. It is as you said—we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope. We. Together.”

Jesper moves slowly, idly: not caging him in against the bed yet but definitely implying he can and will.

“I am ready to stand by your side. We should be partners. The Sun and the Dark.” Kaz swallows. “‘That means a lot to me. You mean a lot,’ is what you say now.”

How come the Darkling’s not constantly slipping on his own slimy slime trail?

“That means a lot to me.” Jesper gives Kaz a deep, smouldering look. The pockmarks on his cheeks. The jumping muscle in his jaw. The hint of a pained grimace from standing unaided. The boyish grin when he’s totally fucked over another gang boss and gets to gloat. The vicious hatred when someone touches his Crows. Licking powdered sugar off his gloves. “You mean a lot.”

And that’s it. The way Kaz looks at him—this is when the Darkling makes his move.

“I have been waiting for you for so long,” Jesper purrs smarmily, closing his eyes, moving in for the kiss, and—Kaz isn’t there anymore.

It was a single step backwards, because Kaz has hit the edge of the bed already, face blotched with humiliation, and the way he looks at Jesper is—angry is the least terrible interpretation. If he backs out now, Kaz is going to kill him for pitying him or catering to a weakness that honestly—how is not wanting this weak? But Kaz is Kaz, and Jesper’s just Jesper, and—

“Focus,” Kaz hisses. “You own Ravka. You will own the Sun, too. You have waited for this triumph—take it.”

“Why don’t we take this to the—” fuck you, Brekker, for making me say this— “bed, then? Take off your clothes. Don’t be scared.”

That’s a good dig. The kind of insult that looks super caring, unless you know Kaz enough to understand he sees any crack in his image as a dangerous failure. Jesper’s getting the hang of this malicious flirting thing, finally. When this is over, he’ll need to scrub the slime off himself twice.

Kaz looks at Jesper while he disrobes. At him, Jesper hopes against hope, at the real person he’s roped into his worst scheme yet with a goal that’s still totally obscure; at Jesper and not the asshole he’s imagining in his place. Kaz’ eyes trace his cheeks, dance over his shaved head, catch on the lips.

Jesper takes off his boots and gun belt, and the kefta. He undoes the fly of his trousers, pulls his dick out, and stops. He glares at Kaz, daring him to object to the attempt at making this slightly less miserable—Jesper’s the Darkling, he’s in charge, so Kaz can fuck off with his masochism. He’s done undressing. He’s not taking off his shirt or trousers. That layer of cloth stays on.

But Kaz doesn’t object. He stands up straight, naked, brittle, wincing, and then glancing away he mutters, “Ignore the antlers. He hadn’t done that yet.”

Fucking Darkling.

The antlers stick out of Kaz’ collarbones, uneven tines of—possession, mutilation, and Jesper’s eyes catch on a tiny set of grooves on the left one. The scabbed-over cuts underneath. The bruise from the gunshot. And even despite that horror, Kaz has a nice chest. Serious muscle, a street map of scars and a smattering of dark hairs—it feels weirdly improper to stare at him, so Jesper’s eyes dance down to his knobbly left knee and the softly twisted right thigh with its knots of scars, up to the face where he’s biting his harsh pretty mouth, and down again. His dick is nice, fat but not too long, rooted in a tangle of dark curls.

It’s utterly limp.

It’s pathetic, how much that hurts. Of course he isn’t into this. Of course he doesn’t find Jesper remotely attractive. Of course this is just some weird masochistic proxy powerplay for him, some attempt to prove he’s stronger now and can bear it or whatever the fuck, and Jesper’s just the sad stupid body he’s using to enact it.

And of course not even that is enough to make Jesper bow out. Kaz asked.

“Do you want me to suck you off first? Get you in the mood, even a little?” It’s not just for Kaz, that offer, though the whole thing will probably be less painful and awkward if he manages to coax out some arousal. It’s not for younger Jesper, who fantasized about being ordered to blow his boss as penance more often than he likes to admit. No, this is so Jesper can bury his face in Kaz’ pubic hair for a minute. And cry.

Kaz raises an eyebrow. He sounds arch and ice cold when he asks, “Jesper, do you think the Darkling would suck my dick?”

“He should have. Saints, what an asshole,” Jesper shoots back before he can think. “You need a better class of lovers.”

“By which you’re of course implying that you are much better than Aleksander Morozova, the General Kirigan, the Black Heretic, eternal Conqueror and crowned Emperor of Greater Ravka, Salvation to Grishadom, Master of the Fold and He who chained the Sun, et cetera and so fucking on and so fucking forth the Darkling himself?”

“Given I just offered you a blowjob without bringing useless power shit into it, yes.”

“Wrong data, incoherent formula. Correct answer.” Kaz’ grin is crooked. Inordinately fond, and Jesper would have settled for no longer desperately hiding terror but this is—

Yeah.

“I’m going to try to make this roleplay as realistic as I can, but I don’t know if I can forget enough about how to have sex to sink to the Darkling’s level. Also, you don’t happen to have the address of that Grisha Tailor who mutilated you back there? I need them to make my dick look weird. Corkscrew, maybe. Some warts. It’s probably green. I’d peg him for advanced neurological syphilis but I am about to sleep with you, so— ”

“Did you know, Jesper, that the Darkling always wears a gag when he has sex?”

“Shutting up now, boss.”

“Don’t shut up,” Kaz replies instantly. Very, very instantly. “Just keep your disparagements somewhat plausible. And… rare.”

Only to jolt me back, he’s asking. “Got it. So I guess I’m supposed to loom over you a little? How close do you want me?”

“I’ll need to—” Kaz turns around and bends over to root around in the pockets of his coat, and it’s even weirder, worse, looking at his ass when Jesper knows Kaz doesn’t like him back. Kaz tosses over a tiny bottle. Oil. “Give that to me. Tell me to prepare myself.”

“Just saying it once more, boss. You don’t have to go through with—”

“Stop thinking about the Kaz Brekker you know,” Kaz hisses. “Stop anticipating my reactions. Stop caring. You are the Darkling. You have been waiting for the Sun Summoner for decades. You’ve formed your picture of them. This delinquent flinching little rat you bought doesn’t quite fit, not his limp, not his fear of touch, not his pathetic need to assert himself, but, well… you have time. He’ll learn how to make himself fit into the space you provide him. He’ll become your Sun Summoner.”

“Have I told you yet that I’m going to kill that piece of shit?”

“You’ve mentioned it, once or twice. In the last hour.”

Jesper bares his teeth: a grin, but not. A promise. “Good. I’ll hold his mouth open while you stuff him full of black powder and set him on fire.”

“Stop stalling, Jesper. That won’t make it any easier.”

That won’t make it not have happened.

“If you’re sure this will help.”

Kaz nods.

“Lie down on the bed, then. Is there a—no, no pillows here, roll up the coat and slide it under your hips.” Jesper turns his face away, listening to the timid, stuttering squelches of Kaz stretching his asshole. Jesper doesn’t know what would be worse: if, after everything, he can’t get it up… or if he can.

Well. He’ll have to. His dick will just have to obey the dictates of the situation, just as Kaz’ body was made into the Sun Summoner. He’s young. He’s still looking at Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, naked, who asked Jesper to sleep with him, and that’ll have to be enough. They’ve gotten this far. They’ll force their way through. That’s how you do it. That’s how you gamble. How you lose big. Kaz might have once tried to explain to him something about sunk costs and throwing good money after bad, but Jesper ignored him that night and lost a hundred and twenty kruge to Specht, and he’s never looked back.

“Okay, Mr Sunshine. Let’s consummate our fucking partnership,” he grinds out when Kaz has gone quiet, takes the bottle to slick up his own uncooperative dick, and carefully, he climbs on top of Kaz. The clothes were a good decision: Kaz barely flinches when he kneels in-between his legs and pulls the sleeve over his hand to carefully guide his right knee to rest on Jesper’s thigh.

Kaz is staring up at his face, breathing, just breathing. The antlers in his collarbone frame his bright face—brighter than the candles should allow, like maybe—and his focus is rigid and he’s breathing, breathing quickly—

“Is this teaching you anything yet?”

“Not really,” Kaz rasps, after too long. “Or—I think—maybe it was—” he glances at Jesper’s pathetic, unhappy limp dick. His face twists. “I thought you were into me.”

This is— “I love you. Kaz Brekker, whoever you are. I don’t give a fuck about this Sun Summoner bullshit. I love you. I love you,” because this is—Jesper can’t do this. He can’t. His elbows are locked: he can’t drop his body any lower. He can't go lower than this. “I love you,” until it’s finally over. “I love you. I love you.”

☼

“And I’m telling you again, I don’t know what he does Tuesday evenings,” Jesper hisses.

“You were still with the Dregs, three months ago!” Kaz is wiping his cane clean. It didn’t even really get dirty—they mostly used kitchen knives to do the deed, and in the case of a maidservant who unwisely came to work in the middle of the night, a bullet that Jesper’s already collected and reshaped into something functional, because he might not get to buy new ones. Desperation. Frugality. The Kerch are rubbing off on him. It’s good, though. The fact he’s cleaning the wood is all the confirmation Jesper will likely ever get that Kaz does like the new cane Jesper made him from a cute straight rowan sapling, reinforced with the metal scavenged from all but the most essential buttons on their hodgepodge of clothes. At least there’s one thing of Jesper’s he values. “How can you not know the behavioural patterns of your boss? Are you that brainless?”

“No-one knew what he was up to! He barely came by the Slat. He wasn’t that interested in us.”

“You worked for Per Haskell, Jesper; you worked for that man for years—for nearly as many as I did, when you ran off to Ravka—and now you attempt to convince me you barely know his name?” Kaz still doesn’t look quite as harsh as he used to, or maybe that’s just Jesper hankering for their past. Well, he didn’t used to explain his plans to Jesper as if he was an imbecile—but then, he didn’t used to need Jesper. He had more stooges back then. Now, he only has one. Ally. Friend.

If it’s as weird for him, though, as it is for Jesper being back in Ketterdam after he didn’t die on his revenge suicide plot and the city didn’t, either—well, he might still get murdered for stealing the Sun Summoner or skipping out on debts or something completely unrelated, and Ketterdam’s… well, she’s weathering having her ruling class torn apart twice in short order, once by the Darkling’s conquest and now, by the slow collapse of the Darkling’s overstretched realm after he’s lost his saint/weapon/doll.

The Barrel’s fine—as glary and miserable as it ever was, anyway, but though Kaz would probably insist most of the Mercher’s Council had their hands in gang business one way or the other, their reach was indirect, mediated and secretive enough for the chaos tearing up the Geldstraat not to trickle down as quickly into the slums. And anyway, the involvement of the merchers only ever made life worse for most people. The plight of the rich can only be a blessing.

Right now, they’re inside a nice place in the Zelver district. Close enough to power to feel the death throes, and even disregarding the political manoeuvring and debris and panic everywhere, just looking at the house from the outside made Kaz twitchy, somehow.

His energy almost matched Jesper’s trigger finger.

It’s Haskell’s house, so that unease makes sense.

Haskell’s expensive secret new house far outside the Barrel that they’re despoiling now. They looked as out of place in the beautiful Zelver district as any Barrel rats, with their heads shorn close to the bone so they’ll look different enough to not get recognized and faces wiped with dirt, dressed in a melange of Ravkan clothes they haven’t found a chance to replace yet and tawdry Barrel flash for everything else.

Kaz was wearing two coats when he entered the house, an old rose and amber paisley trench that even Jesper admitted is hideous, though now it’s splattered with blood that actually really ties the colour scheme together. Still gross though, and luckily slung over the chair. Along with the purple kefta Kaz hid underneath, the one he still hasn’t given back. Or burned, which is what they did to the other Ravkan overcoats. On the streets his two coats bulked up his frame so much he looked like a kid that Jesper’s never met, dressed up to play a gangster’s role. He looked nothing like the Sun Summoner anymore, and only somewhat like Jesper’s imagined baby Dirtyhands crawling out straight from the harbour, fifty kilos sopping wet and ready to kill a man and feast on his entrails.

Now, he’s stripped down to a ruffled red shirt over a green undershirt—he conspicuously shunned the yellow one next to it on the washing line—and light blue pinstripe trousers. The shirt is a little large in the shoulders, and he’s cuffed the trousers. They stole everything from a cottage on the edge of Ketterdam. Not quite Barrel flash, but almost—alike in style but with better fabric, something a town edge kid probably bought to look like a cool gangster. Or something Jesper would have bought to look special for a very special date. If he squints, he can almost imagine—it’s the morning after, and—

Ever since the Little Palace the idea of Kaz naked has totally lost its lustre. The idea of his muscular but scrawny, scarred chest, his wiry tattooed arms, his ambiguously demonic hands—it’s all overlaid now with a flimsy ugly sleeveless yellow paper taffeta gown. With normal hands, kept bare as humiliation.

But maybe—maybe they sat together, not on a log in a forest but on a sofa this time, and then in the morning Kaz was cold and he stole all of Jesper’s clothes to wear over his own. That’s much better. (Maybe he just wanted Jesper naked all day…)

Jesper won’t let the Darkling steal his fantasies, too. They’re—

Ouch. Fucking ouch.

Jesper really shouldn’t have added tiny spiky worms to the side of the cane, but Kaz’ indignation was just too funny.

“Let me make this clear—” Kaz rasps, once he’s regained Jesper’s full attention. Half-full. ‘Like he’s plundered Jesper’s wardrobe’ is still such a good look on him. “We are both hunted. Neither of us can afford to be caught outside on the streets of Ketterdam and let whoever saw us live. If we’re going to make Haskell’s house our temporary base of operations, we need to make his death as inconspicuous as possible. We cannot safely anticipate which of his visitors to eliminate and which to fool unless we know whether they, in turn, may be missed.”

“Well,” Jesper mutters. “Mitki might come by. If the neighbours don’t chase him off.”

Kaz raises a single, dirt-encrusted eyebrow.

“Mitki’s the newest lieutenant. Might have made it this—”

“Not Anika? I can understand why a flake like you didn’t rise in the Dregs ranks, but she—”

“Ambush. Dime Lions, five weeks after you disappeared.”

“Rotty?”

“Slit throat. Still no clue who did it.”

“Specht? Pim? Neeta? Big Bol?”

“Razorgulls, knife, last year. Bullet to the head, same day. Hellgate. Hellgate.”

“Muzzen? Ruk? Keeg?”

“Another ‘Gull stabbing, just before I left. Hellgate, again. Keeg just disappeared, though. Might still be alive somewhere over the True Sea, if he’s clever. Not that he was, he’s probably floating, poor sod.” Jesper shrugs. After a while, it just gets too much: the beginning of the Dregs’ end is seared into his brain, but there aren’t enough synapses for the tenth—or fiftieth—dead friend to hurt as much. “There’s a reason why I didn’t think twice about running when I lost those fifty thousand. Like I said, boss, it’s been a shitshow since you left. Haskell never wanted for new ones, since he got his kids fresh off the street, but he just stopped giving any shit whatsoever, and since you weren’t there to pick up the slack… well, I can see why he didn’t care, now.”

Jesper spares a bitter look for the mountain of kruge next to Haskell’s foot, the mountain he offered Kaz as soon as he saw him, long before Kaz even tried to hack off both his hands and feet with a dull meat cleaver. Long before Kaz had to settle for cutting down to the bone and then wrenching Haskell’s extremities from their sockets by sheer force of hatred, while Jesper puked into the kitchen sink. The mountain he’d never have amassed as the boss of a gang as shambolic as the last years of the Dregs.

The mountain that’s going to pay off Inej’s indenture tomorrow.

Haskell allowed her to rot there. It’s only fair he pays for her freedom with his life.

“Everyone we could use is gone. And you…” Kaz tips Jesper’s chin up with his cane. The world shimmies a little. “You, of all the old Dregs, survived.”

Jesper shrugs again. This is too much to confess to Kaz, of all cruel bastards, probably far too much, but—they’re sitting in the living room of Jesper’s former boss, the man who sold Kaz out to the Darkling and used the prize money to live in luxury, while letting his gang die on increasingly pointless ill-planned errands. The other end of the table is still flecked and puddled with slow-drying blood—not to mention the corpse, or corpse-pieces, laying there—but over here, they have a bottle of expensive whisky they found in a cabinet and they’re trading swigs from the bottle, all bitter and clean.

“I didn’t take it too well, when you and Inej just disappeared, and then my friends kept dying. Might have gone on a couple of benders. Might have lost some games. Might have lost some fights. Might have had some sexual encounters with people who turned out to be massive creeps. Consequently, I may not have been technically around to be asked to go on some of these errands, or perhaps I just didn’t notice because I was drunk.”

“Jesper.” Kaz doesn’t even sound surprised. Wow. Thanks for having faith in me, boss.

It’s not really that humiliating, though, now he’s said it out loud. He spent two years making bad decisions and occasionally braiding Inej’s hair. Kaz spent that time getting turned into a doll. Who can say what’s worse? He takes another deep gulp and grins. “You know me, boss. I need some external structure in life. I really need a commandeering asshole dragging me into his schemes to be my best self.”

“And yet, you outwitted the Darkling.”

“That wasn’t difficult, to be fair. Tell them I’m Grisha, search the Little Palace, shoot Kaz Brekker in the head, get executed…” Jesper trails off. When the silence grows teeth, he takes a pull of whisky that’s so desperate it makes him cough, but Kaz is still letting him stew.

They don’t really need to talk about it, though. No value in going over what happened in the Little Palace. No value in discussing anything. Everything is fine now. Yes, Jesper did want to kill Kaz. Yes, he’ll die for Kaz.

And they both know why.

Kaz steals the bottle. It’s incredible, actually, Jesper was just holding it—well, maybe he’s a little more drunk than he thought, but Kaz would probably like being complimented on his pickpocketing. “I didn’t even see you steal that bottle,” Jesper says.

“I’d be angry you’re drunk,” Kaz rasps. “But you’ve been completely useless at all stages of the current plan so far. And the previous one, by your planning—I always forget, in my amazement at what you accomplished, that you failed.”

He says that, but his cheeks are flushed pink with alcohol. His pupils are wide when he looks at Jesper. He raises the bottle to his lips and tips his head back, swallowing what should have easily been ten more swigs of whisky. Thieving bastard.

☼

When Jesper awakes on Haskell’s second softest chaise longue in the receiving room—neither of them was particularly eager to climb into Haskell’s bed, and, in Jesper’s case, not particularly still able to walk up the stairs either—his mouth is dry, his bladder full and the light is poking his brain even through closed curtains and eyelids. And Kaz—he searches the whole house after finishing his business, but yes, it’s true—Kaz is gone.

So are his cane and his current Barrel flash coat and the kefta, which means Kaz is probably safe. Well. As safe as the escaped Sun Summoner can be. Not kidnapped, at least. More alive than anyone stupid enough to cross Kaz’ path.

He’s taken Haskell’s kruge, and left a note.

In Kaz’ sharp hand, the note reads, “STAY.”

It’s underlined three times, and on the back side Kaz has written, “or you will die,” which to be fair is pretty ambiguous.

‘Die’ as in, ‘I mistrust your competence and assume you’ll get yourself killed if you move a finger?’ Or as in, ‘I’m warning you I won’t go out of my way to save you?’ Perhaps it’s a straightforward ‘Disobey and I am going to personally murder you and piss on your corpse?’ All are very real possibilities, knowing Kaz.

To really understand the message, Jesper needs to get into Kaz’ mood when he woke up—hungover, but how much? Enough he hates the entire world, or so much he hates Jesper more? Also, his current way of thinking. Jesper’s usefulness. A point in favour is the fact that Jesper saved him from a fate worse than death, but on the other hand, Jesper forgot to extract a deal from him and Kaz is so Kerch it hurts, which means he’s pared down solidarity and reciprocity and love into exchange, into deals, and all Jesper’s offering are the first three. They shared a bottle of whisky next to the corpse of their old boss, though, and in general Kaz looked like he was having fun more than once on their dirty, miserable long trek out of Ravka. Way more fun than he had in the majestic Little Palace. Also, Jesper’s incredibly likeable. He’s beautiful and funny and stupidly in love with Kaz without asking anything in return, so really it only makes sense that Kaz has finally succumbed to his charm.

(He dug his hand into Jesper’s hair, that night on the fallen tree and twice afterwards, but—maybe that was only to make Jesper squirm.)

Well, he enjoyed Jesper’s company while they fled from Ravka to Ketterdam, at least. That’s the crux of it.

So why would Kaz anticipate that Jesper might want to run anywhere? There’s a well-stocked kitchen here. A far more sensible assumption would be that Jesper might want to make some waffles or go on a morning jog. No, not that one. Enjoy a lavish breakfast. Have a bath, perhaps, after spending two weeks crawling through the Ravkan forest and the Shu countryside and stowed in the belly of a wine cargo ship and then countryside again, this time Kerch. Jesper’s feet hurt just thinking about it, and that Kaz managed to get here, even at the half-speed they settled on, speaks to—well, the same bull-headed masochism as always, but the fact he still refused to even consider stealing a cart or horse or approach any larger settlement before Ketterdam means he must be even more terrified of the Darkling than Jesper can imagine. He refused to leave any trace whatsoever. (And yet he’s back in Ketterdam, the one city in the world he was connected to before the Little Palace, because…?)

Ketterdam is the only city, village, collection of buildings and people they’ve been to for weeks, which means it’s the first chance Jesper has to gamble, but—even he knows not to stake anything on the possibility there’s someone left in the Barrel who doesn’t know about Jesper Fahey, he who owes Pekka Rollins fifty thousand kruge and just skipped town, kill immediately with extreme prejudice.

Well, Rollins is dead now—the only gang boss courageous or aggrieved or hungry enough to try and covertly resist the Darkling, go figure—but whoever’s head Lion now probably won’t even let Jesper try to spin an argument about how he really owes that money to ‘Pekka Rollins’ Dime Lions’, not any successor organizations. No such luck, and anyway, people stupid enough to bounce on their debts are fair game to any gang in the Barrel. They don’t cooperate on much, not even for mutual benefit, but murdering dishonest gamblers? That’s a team sport.

Jesper’s last recklessly suicidal plan worked out fantastic, so maybe he should find a card table. His luck’s turned. He could win millions.

Which Kaz definitely would anticipate, and warn him away from. Kaz is a buzzkill. Just because Jesper’s going to get murdered on sight in the Barrel…

Because Jesper’s gonna get murdered on sight in the Barrel.

If Kaz wants to rebuild his status in the Barrel, there’s no bigger liability than Jesper. And Kaz wants to, surely. He worked his way up inside the Dregs carefully and diligently, spent more time than anyone sane would inside a tiny attic office adding up numbers, and sucked up to an utter piece of shit like Haskell, just so he could one day become a Barrel boss. And now, to rise again, he has to cut off the dead weight.

Which means Jesper.

That’s why he left.

It’s not even a betrayal. They don’t have an agreement for life after reaching Ketterdam, let alone one that says Jesper can follow him forever and ever just like in the good old days. Inej—but Inej’s actually useful to a new Barrel boss, as soon as her indenture’s paid. Jesper’s the weak link here. Jesper’s screwed.

Which doesn’t mean he won’t go down fighting. He knows the way to the Menagerie—the quickest way, the scenic route, the paths least commonly trafficked by Pigeons and the ones usually avoided by staadwatch or gangsters. He knows Kaz well enough to guess which one he’s taken. If he hasn’t woken too late—and by the sun’s position, it’s still early in the morning—then he has a chance to pass Kaz off and… insult him? Beg? Cry? Sell his father’s soul for a position in the new Dregs? Maybe he’ll just have to wear a Komedie Brute mask for the rest of his life and it’ll be fine. He’ll figure it out later.

Jesper draws his shoulders up to his ears while he scurries through empty alleyways, the collar of his fancy pseudo-Barrel flash coat turned up. He’s almost glad that Kaz made him go hatless and shaved bald—thoroughly unstylish and un-Jesper enough he might survive the morning—but there are drawbacks to the disguise in the damp chill.

Also, the disguise isn’t good enough. After some minutes, Jesper notices that some clusters of metal stay at roughly the same distance to him. Eight clusters of—round, small, definitely mostly kruge with a few Ravkan coins thrown in. Thirteen guns. A rifle. Two of the coin clusters are fairly close together and move in unison. Jesper’s dealing with seven shadows, then.

That’s—a lot.

Jesper’s had a little more training being a Durast now, but what he could really use now is combat training. He hasn’t even been in a battle in over a month, unless you count handing Kaz knives while he carves up Per Haskell, and since Jesper had to puke right after, you probably shouldn’t. He’s fought rabbits. Jesper’s sure fought some rabbits in Ravka. Two deer, too.

He could probably escape his pursuers. It would take time, though, time Jesper doesn’t have when Kaz is leaving him behind without a word. He’ll just have to kill them quickly.

At least there’s one of his favourite surveillance detection routes nearby. One of the rare aboveground tunnels in Ketterdam, not used by Pigeons for obvious reasons of creepiness and also because it just leads to a big courtyard behind a factory: a courtyard that’s easy to escape, when you know the gate’s lock is broken. Kaz showed it to him, just weeks after Jesper got recruited, after the second time the ‘Gulls got the drop on him and beat him to a pulp. In the courtyard, he made Jesper shoot some sparrows and some pigeons to prove his worth. Not crows, though, and for a year Jesper believed that detail was just thrown in to test whether Jesper would obey nonsensical orders. It’s still a plausible explanation.

He’ll just have to ask Kaz, after he begs him for a role in the new Dregs. After he kills these seven pursuers.

If.

He catches the first man off-guard and blows his head off when he exits the tunnel, but after that, it’s a stand-off. Jesper, hiding behind a massive wood barrel for cover, against six men ducked into the mouth of the tunnel.

Jesper manages to pick off another man by firing into the tunnel and blindly redirecting the bullet into the first nook, but the second attempt at using that trick doesn’t hit anything, and neither does the third. He has eight bullets left now, and five enemies. Even Jesper can tell that’s bad odds.

Retreating across the courtyard, though—the first few meters are fine, there are enough wine barrels and he can just dash from one to another, slightly nudging bullets off their course so none hit him.

Those guys have far too many bullets left, though, by the time Jesper’s forty meters away from the gate. Forty meters without cover. His pursuers aren’t bad shots either—likely Dime Lions, because there’s no way a Liddy would ever get so close that Jesper has to redirect their bullet—and they’re cautious enough that only two of them are crouched behind that barrel next to the tunnel, now, while the rest are still hidden inside.

This might get a little tough—but if Jesper starts manipulating bullets more obviously, will that information travel to the Little Palace? They know the Sun Summoner escaped with a Fabrikator. Is he painting a target on Kaz’ back?

Is he—

Bloodcurdling screams and groans, and Jesper’s too far away to hear any thwacks but his senses have expanded and he knows that metal coating intimately. Knows that cane.

Kaz emerges from the tunnel opening, Inej behind him, and—

Boom.

The Dime Lion’s shot him.

Right in the chest, and Kaz stumbles, falls to his knees.

Keels over.

Jesper shoots wildly while he runs over, whirling the bullets around the barrel that the Dime Lions are hiding behind—two left, Kaz wouldn’t have let any of the ones in the tunnel escape—desperate to hit something or at least keep them distracted and scared long enough to get there, or for—Inej’s pulling Kaz back by his coat, and she’s still wearing a sheer Menagerie dress, she probably doesn’t have any knives to protect—nothing’s hit yet, nothing’s hit, and all Jesper’s bullets are in the air whizzing around but he’s not hitting anything and Kaz is down and Kaz—

Kaz pushes himself to his knees, and then he stands up.

He’s breathing hard, and in the ugly rose/amber/bloodstain trench there’s a hole above his heart, sooty and burnt, but he’s still alive, Kaz is alive, he’s—

“What are you?” a Dime Lion gasps. Jesper’s finally got a bead on her. He sinks three bullets into her head.

“I just killed…” The other one is less lucky, and Jesper only manages to hit his stomach before he runs out of airborne bullets. He’ll die, but it won’t be quick.

“I crawled out of the harbour before. I’ll do it again,” Kaz rasps, and before the Dime Lion manages more than “Dirty—” a wet squelch informs Jesper of his demise.

That’s all of them.

“Kaz, you—” Inej’s much quicker at Kaz’ side, but he moves away before she can touch him to check his injury. Moves quickly enough he’s probably not on death’s door. He is a good actor, though. She looks at Jesper, and he’s about to join her in begging Kaz to get some medical aid, at least, but then Kaz shrugs off the ruined trench coat.

“Those kefta aren’t entirely useless,” Kaz rasps, grinning like an amused fucking asshole who almost gave Jesper a heart attack.

And then, Inej wraps herself around Jesper.

“You’re alive! I was terrified,” she shouts against his chest, slapping his back and grabbing as if she can’t decide whether to kill Jesper or never let go. “I thought you got yourself killed! You just disappeared, no word, I thought—”

“I may have lost a game where the stake was fifty thousand kruge?”

“You—Jes—” Inej squeezes him harder. “I told you to stop. I’d rather have you, with me, than have you die trying to pay me off.”

“I almost won! But there was no chance I’d get out of it, without indenturing myself, and—it all worked out, didn’t it? You’re free! Which reminds me…” Jesper takes off his own coat—blue and green and purple wave patterns, very fancy, a bit on the small side for him—and lays it onto Inej’s shoulders. It suits her, too—it drowns her a little, sure, but the way the coat reaches down to her ankles looks regal, and anyway, Kaz is a good sewer. He’ll fix this. “Can’t have you catching a cold.”

Before she can reply—tell him again she wasn’t worth risking his life and freedom in every card game he could for two years, when she definitely is, she’s Inej, he’ll do anything for her—he runs away and searches the dead Dime Lions for a new coat for himself, all their money, the rifle, and picks up the used bullets too. Knowing Kaz, he’ll want them to leave this place soon, and Jesper can’t very well try to convince his boss he needs to keep his sharpshooter around when he has no bullets left.

Speaking of—Jesper saunters over to Kaz when he’s done. With his most careless grin, he says, “I want my goodbye kiss before you ditch me.”

“I left you a note,” Kaz rasps. “I should have remembered you can’t read.”

Which as good as counts as a promise that Kaz didn’t intend to leave him behind: that, and the adrenaline of an easy gunfight has Jesper grinning widely. This is the life he wanted. The life he yearned for during the last two miserable years. The Crows are back, baby. He asks, “What now, boss?”

“We leave. Before anyone comes to investigate those gunshots.”

“Novyi Zem?”

“No,” Kaz rasps, just as Inej says, “They’ll let us drown.”

“They what?”

“Move.” Kaz starts limping past the factory, and then doubles back one street over—in the general direction away from the sea. Jesper and Inej quickly flank him. “I went to the Fifth Harbour before I paid off Inej’s indenture. It’s near empty. Old man there said no boats go to Novyi Zem or Eames Chin right now, and no boats come back. Because nothing gets unloaded. Kerch ships can’t dock there. They all get stranded at sea.”

“People started running when Ravka cut us off from the continent,” Inej mutters. “Before the invasion. And now the Darkling’s gone, the Kerch Grisha are either running or dead.”

“Too many refugees, apparently. Something about culture and scroungers and economic migrants. Novya Zem’s closed its ports to Kerch.”

“But I’m Zemeni—”

“You’re just a person. Those borders don’t exist to help you. The harbour watch don’t exist for you, the government doesn’t exist for you—if there’s a choice between cementing their power and your life, every bureaucrat worth their salt will choose the former.”

Jesper wants to argue, but actually, he’d trust Kaz over Novyi Zem a million times. Kaz saved his life when Ketterdam and Kerch would have swallowed him whole. Novyi Zem isn’t any different. “So we’re stuck in Ketterdam, then, where I’ll get shot on sight and you’ll easily get tracked by the Darkling. I only remember one safehouse that’s still uncompromised, as of last month anyway, unless you think we should go back to Haskell’s, boss?”

“Inej,” Kaz rasps. “That shop over there. Buy us a cart. We’re going to Lij.”

“What’s in Lij, boss? Why Lij? Where is Lij, anyway?”

But Kaz doesn’t answer him. Even aboard the cart, directing their new donkey with a seemingly perfect grasp of the roads leading to a small southern Kerch town none of them have ever been to, he refuses to elaborate. He looks tense, though. Jesper reshapes his many new bullets while he walks alongside. If there’s a fight waiting for them in Lij, they’re going to win.

☼

Kaz paces the length of the room. Window, door, window, door—there’s not much space beside the marriage bed, and the air draft of his passing caresses Jesper’s shorn head.

He’s put back together now, dressed in his socks and his boots and his underpants and his trousers and his gloves, though his torso’s only covered by the open purple kefta. Despite the cane, he limps more heavily than before he trekked for weeks through the Ravkan forest. He’s not fully recovered yet, if he’ll ever be.

Jesper’s on the floor. He climbed off the bed—off Kaz, after he ruined Kaz’ stupid get proxy-raped by the proxy-Darkling again plan. He said what he said, and the silence that followed was all the answer he’ll get, and then he sat down on the floor. It’s as good a place to wait as any. Probably more hygienic than the bed, anyway. He watched Kaz dress, until he almost looked like the Barrel lieutenant they both wish he was still allowed to be, and now he’s watching Kaz Brekker Dirtyhands the Sun Summoner pace holes in the old dusty floor of an abandoned farmhouse an hour’s walk outside of the small Kerch town of Lij.

He’s not getting murdered, though. Not for what he almost did. Not for what he said. That’s as good as this was ever going to go.

“It was worse this time.” Kaz directs his rasp towards the floor. He doesn’t stop moving. “I froze. Why was it—it was you. I knew you were—you’d never—with you it should have been more tolerable. Not worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss.” Jesper still can’t decide whether he should be ashamed that he was too squeamish to go through with it. Kaz doesn’t seem as angry as he could be, that Jesper totally fucked up this whatever-it-was-supposed-to-be. Not the mocking disappointment he doles out at Jesper’s predictable failures—gambling, distractibility, lateness, no impulse control and so on—and not the seething hatred when Jesper does something he hasn’t anticipated.

“I turned it over and over in my mind. For a year. What I did wrong. How I could have turned this to my advantage. How to excise this weakness. I thought I’d found—but there’s nothing.”

Jesper would offer to brutally desecrate the Darkling’s corpse again, but it clearly doesn’t help. Kaz won’t let this go. Never mind that he was a teenage thief imprisoned in a palace. Never mind it was him against the whole entourage of the most powerful Grisha. The man who crowned himself Emperor.

Sometimes you’re just fucked. And there’s nothing you can do. Life isn’t fair.

“There is a way to beat him,” Kaz hisses. “And I will find it.”

“You did. Sort of.”

“What—”

Jesper grins a shark-grin. “You’re not in Ravka now, are you?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why doesn’t it? No, boss, listen—he didn’t beat you alone, either, right? He had his Tailor making you into a doll. His Fabrikators locking your cage. His soldiers. Hell, Haskell selling you out—so really, it’s your victory that I found you.” Now that Jesper’s trying to explain his gut reaction, it just seems more and more logical. “Why can’t you have your own gang? You practically rescued yourself. You took a look at a boy who’d have gotten shot in a few weeks because he couldn’t pay is debts and he couldn’t stop fucking gambling—you had me dragged up to your office. You took that chance. You saved my life so I could save yours. That’s… planning ahead. Planning years ahead. Well done.”

Kaz finally, finally stops pacing. He sinks into the mattress just slightly to the right of Jesper, so he can sprawl out his legs without making contact. He looks at Jesper, but he’s silent, and his face isn’t giving anything away.

At first, that makes it feel like he’s actually listening. Actually considering what Jesper told him, and agreeing. Kaz is a quick thinker, though. He doesn’t need this long to realize that Jesper’s correct, which means he’s coming up with counterarguments—arguments why actually, he’s still weak or whatever and needs to force himself—and Jesper really, really can’t watch him do this to himself again. Why this, anyway? Why is this the weakness he fixated on?

“Why is that creep so obsessed with making you touch people, anyway?”

“Because it’s easy. Necessary. Even a child does it. Touch is what makes us human, and the Sun Summoner is human, whatever lies he tells himself,” Kaz recites. His eyes are bright. Wet.

“Bullshit. You terrorized the Barrel for years and it didn’t matter at all that you never touched anyone. It was just you. It didn’t even really sink in for me, that you don’t touch people, until I saw the way he dressed you up, how miserable you were.” That’s probably a good place to leave it, but Jesper’s livid. Jesper could mince and mangle fifty Darklings with the pure force of his loathing, and there’s not even a single one around here. That energy has to go somewhere. “You’re trying to tell me the Ravkan fucking palace couldn’t change protocol a little and adapt? If it never mattered in the Barrel, it never mattered at all. He just picked something. If you’d been allergic to shellfish, that’s the only food he would have served you, and he would have said you’re weak for your windpipe swelling up. He wasn’t able control you because touch made you weak. When you’re in control, it doesn’t matter. Because you fucking kill whoever touches you. You don’t bow to them. They bow to you.”

Kaz doesn’t reply. He doesn’t look away from Jesper, though. He just stares down at him, with his eyes still wide and still wet. He mutters, “You’ve turned quite opinionated in my absence, Jesper.”

“In your presence. I’m quoting your words back to you—sort of, it was about the cane, and I’ve forgotten half of it. But you were right. You were always right.” Jesper laughs. “See? Now you’re teaching yourself through time and space! Your masterplan is incredibly fucking elaborate!”

“My—I’m not falling for it.” Kaz is grinning, though. “If I agree now—by this time tomorrow you’ll have done something incredibly stupid and you’ll throw the whole Everything I do is your triumph because you saved me thing in my face. I’m not responsible for your awful jokes!”

Pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, Jesper wails, “My plan! My ingenious plan! Foiled by the dastardly Dirtyhands, oh no!”

Kaz laughs at him. Kaz laughs, and laughs, and Jesper joins him.

It takes a while before Kaz stops, gasping for breath. No-one in Ravka’s ever told a good joke, Jesper decides, because he’s made way funnier jokes before that Kaz didn’t even chuckle at, but gift horses and mouths and so on. Colour’s returned to Kaz’ face: his cheeks are blotchy and red, even after his breathing’s evened out. Kaz mumbles, “You know, that’s exactly how I imagined it.”

What? Oh. Jesper’s sprawled on the floor, leaning back on his elbows, his shirt pulled out of his trousers—his trousers, which are open, and he still hasn’t tucked away his dick. He forgot. There were more far important things to do, and now… well, he probably looks more debauched than Kaz in his purple kefta, with just his prick exposed to the chilly night-time Kerch air while he lounges on the ground. He ghosts a finger over it.

“Do you want me to—do you want to watch, boss?”

“I’d—” Kaz swallows. “Saints.”

Jesper turns a little, so Kaz can get a better view. He doesn’t undress, in case that’s an integral part of the fantasy, just gently trails his fingers down his still-limp dick—though it’s definitely waking up now—and looks up at Kaz.

Kaz doesn’t meet his eyes anymore, but that’s fine: more than fine, when he’s alternately looking at Jesper’s cock and at Jesper’s lips. Jesper darts out his tongue, and Kaz’ pupils blow even wider. Jesper licks down his palm and starts jerking off in earnest. “Hey, boss,” Jesper mutters, and when the head jerks up Jesper blows him a tiny kiss.

“What do you think about?” Kaz rasps.

“I just look at you. That’s enough. I like your face.” The tiny quirk of his lips, the way his eyes dart back down. “What are you thinking about, boss?”

“I didn’t expect you to enjoy this as much.”

“Seriously, boss, I know you’re not that stupid. How many times—”

“Not me,” Kaz mumbles. He gestures obscurely at the room. Jesper. The wall. The floor. The floor again. “This. It’s—not proper. Demeaning.”

“I wasn’t feeling demeaned until you started talking—”

“I was going to make you my right hand, once I took over the Dregs. Not my whore—”

“You were?” slips out, small and breathless, before Jesper remembers that this is for Kaz. This for him to enjoy. The warmth expanding in Jesper’s ribcage can wait. “There’s nothing bad about this. You like it. I like it. I don’t see anyone else in this room, and even if—a very clever guy once told me that you don’t bow to the world. You make the world bow to you.”

☼

It’s scratching that wakes Jesper. Scratching like the sharpening of a knife, quick, impatient, desperate—but it’s Kaz who’s on watch right now, Kaz who found this shallow cave they’re spending the night in, and Kaz wouldn’t let any danger come this close unnoticed. Unfought. Kaz wouldn’t just leave Jesper to his fate—would he?

He wouldn’t. At least not yet.

Kaz is sitting at the mouth of the cave. The moon drenches his matted dirty hair in its white glory, his handmade trousers, his naked wiry chest. His chest which he hasn’t bared for a second since Jesper gave him the kefta, even pulling off the Sun Summoner chemise that they tore into threads while still wrapped up in both of his coats: but now he’s half-naked, head bending down to look at those tines sticking out of his clavicle. Those antlers, those keratinized tumours, those bone cancers. Whatever those mutations are, he wants them gone.

In the right hand, he’s holding the knife that Jesper made from buttons so they could cut the blanket into trouser-shapes. In the left hand, he’s holding one of the protrusions growing from his body.

And then, he starts hacking again.

Viciously, helplessly, like a sick rabbit mutated into its own trap. He misses, once, and the knife sinks into his collarbone: but silently he tears it out again and cuts at the cancerous bone, and the knife’s sharp but the only dents that Jesper can see are tiny, glowing, lighting up the knife that’s flecked with his own blood.

☼

Jesper stirs the potato chunks. Thankfully, the old hearth still works, at least after he and Inej fed it with firewood they brought from the market, and so he’s cooking potatoes in butter and water. He mashes them up with some heavy wooden implement he found in a cabinet, once they’re soft enough—he washed it of course; he doesn’t want to eat moth shit—and then Inej passes him a wooden board of carrots in neat small identical pieces. Show-off. Jesper loves her so fucking much.

“Careful, don’t let it burn,” she says, twirling her knife, and Jesper—well, he meant to stir the pot of what’s apparently becoming stamppot. He did. He didn’t mean to think of how he’ll get Inej and Kaz out of Ravka—

And that’s when Kaz limps into the kitchen. He wasn’t still asleep when Inej and Jesper went into town to get some food—as if the Bastard of the Barrel ever sleeps in, even when he’s far from his titular Barrel—but he begged off the trip. He told them to say they’re working for Johannus Rietveld, if they’re asked, who’s apparently inherited this farm, but—they weren’t asked a thing, anyway, and who knows what Kaz did in the meantime. Who knows what weird cover identity he’s cooked up that they haven’t yet had to invoke. And whether it’s weirder than the one Jesper just created.

Jesper gives him a tender little smile. “Had a good morning?”

“No.”

“Because of last—”

But Kaz can read Jesper at least as well as he can read himself. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he rasps. “You’re the least terrifying person I’ve ever met.” Which probably means Yes, I’m rattled, but I won’t take it out on you. Too much.

“Thanks, darling.” And obeying Inej’s sharp elbow, he goes back to stirring the potato mash, and the slices of rookworst smoked sausage she’s dumped into another pan as well. “We decided Inej needs a proper homecooked meal, now she’s free, and we both haven’t eaten anything worth eating for ages, either.”

“You cook?”

“I grew up with my Da. It was either him or me. We traded off, if you want to know, and I’m pretty good apart from when it mysteriously turns into charcoal. And we didn’t find any Zemeni spices in the Lij market—this isn’t Ketterdam, and this old trader I talked to, she said it’s because maritime traffic to Novyi Zem is down to trickles at this point there’s a real dearth of spices, she couldn’t get them at any reasonable price—”

“Don’t burn the stamppot,” Inej orders.

“Anyway, we found a recipe tacked to the wall behind the oven, so that’s what I’m making now. Something super Kerch. Stamppot—you’ve ever eaten it?”

Kaz makes a sound that’s deeply indecipherable. Jesper can’t even tell whether it’s mournful or happy.

“Anyway, we’re almost done. Spinach now, please—Inej made me stick to the recipe, you know—and then the fried sausage and some salt and… you’ll stay with us for lunch, right, even if it isn’t royal Little Palace fare?”

“We ate unseasoned burnt rabbits in the forest,” Kaz replies curtly. He’s gotten over whatever strange emotion took hold of him, then.

“Yeowtch, they were awful. Why didn’t you remind me to take them off the fire. I know how to smuggle us into Novyi Zem,” Jesper says, carrying the deep pot over to their chosen clean bit of floor. Next to the windowsill, so Kaz can sit down with a little less discomfort—the house has been cleaned out apart from the marriage bed, really, and making Kaz go in there now… Making Inej go in there now, when it’s where last night he and Kaz had sex… And it’s not like they were loud, but who knows what Inej read into them pacing around each other for an hour. This is much less awkward. Besides, Jesper’s recently had some great experiences with floors.

Inej doesn’t stop playing with her knife, even after she balances her stamppot served on woodboard on her knees and digs in with her slightly bent spoon. She hasn’t set it down all morning, even carried it into town when they went looking for something to eat, and while she’s been supervising Jesper’s cooking—making sure he’s reading the recipe, keeping him on-track, bickering with him over unclear or illegible instructions—she’s been twirling it around her fingers. A truly remarkable feat, given that it’s the piece of shit knife that Jesper cobbled together from coat buttons, and he didn’t know what he was doing at all except that it should probably be sharp. Inej really needs to talk him through the finer points of balance if she wants him to overhaul the thing.

“They’re not letting in any more refugees from Kerch, you said,” Jesper starts setting up the explanation for his ingenious plan, while he passes over Kaz’ portion and another spoon he dug out from the bottom of a cabinet and small-scienced back into shape.

“The rich Kerch started running first, when the Darkling advanced. Anyone who’d ever had a Grisha indenture… They probably got in. They had the money. As for the rest… well, we’ve all heard of what happened in Fjerda, unless we’re Jesper and too busy drinking and playing Makker’s Wheel—”

“Hey! I was trying to pay off your indenture,” Jesper complains, while nibbling on his surprisingly decent if underspiced potato mash. “I’m Zemeni. They’ll let me in.”

Kaz still hasn’t touched his food. He hasn’t put it away either though, hand cradling the board instead of throwing it at Jesper. Maybe it’s because he’s too curious about the plan. Jesper should have waited, but he was too excited, and now Kaz is frowning as he replies, “So you keep saying. How does that help us? I assume you wouldn’t leave the two of us behind, after all that trouble you took.”

It feels good, to hear him say that. Almost good enough to forgive that Kaz doesn’t like his lunch. “That’s where my plan comes in. I’ve finally figured it out. If we’re married—”

“We can’t marry each other,” Kaz rasps. Before Jesper gets too sad about that, he continues, “In case you haven’t yet learned to count, we’re three people now.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve been thinking it over for so long. But divorce exists, you know so I was thinking that our story should be—and I’ll write to Da, but I thought you should probably agree first—I married one of you and then fell in love with the other but I still loved both, so I was trying to—”

Inej coughs. Laughs. Yeah, she’s definitely laughing at him, and then she says, “You’re going to tell your father about your marriage in a letter—your multiple marriages, because not only did you get married without inviting him, you already traded in your wife for a younger, prettier model. You lothario!”

“If you think that Kaz—actually, are you younger than Inej?”

Kaz, spoon in mouth, glares down at him.

“I’m trying to save our lives here. I’d appreciate some cooperation! And Da will forgive me, when he sees how happy I am with my new bonebreaking gangster wife and my old knife-twirling gangster wife who I had to divorce for petty bureaucratic reasons. Do you like it?”

Another spoonful of stamppot disappears into Kaz’ mouth. His eyes are closed while he chews, and then he looks away. His voice is hoarser than normal when he mumbles, “It tastes exactly the way I—it’s good.”

“Better than unseasoned rabbit charcoal. Anyway, it might throw the Darkling off our scent some more, if we disguise Kaz as a woman—and don’t be sexist. Women come in all shapes and sizes, no-one’s going to suspect a thing. Also we’re from Ketterdam. If any woman like Kaz can marry anywhere, it’s here. It’ll be a scandal, if they refuse to honour our marriage. Letting a few poors drown outside Zemeni borders, sure, but breaking the mutual recognition of administrative documents?”

Jesper is actually pretty proud of his reasoning here. That makes it even more annoying when Kaz rasps, “No-one will ever believe I’m your wife. I can’t even touch you.”

“No-one’s going to believe I love you? Are you sure?” Jesper flutters his eyes up at Kaz.

“He has a point, Jesper. You won’t be the first desperate refugee forging a marriage to leave.” Inej twirls her knife again. “You’ll need to act the part.”

“We’ll just tell them the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t want to be touched, and if they have a follow-up question, they’d better direct it to the barrel of my gun. I’m not letting anybody non-consensually grope my beloved Kerch wife. Never again. Not over my dead body.”

“Won’t they think it’s weird if Kaz—sorry, your beautiful Kerch wife doesn’t let you touch him?”

“I don’t care. I told you. Let the world bow to us. I love my ingenious, vicious Kerch wife, completely independent of any physical contact we may or may not ever have. I respect my stubborn loyal deadpan Kerch wife far too much to cross those boundaries just for social custom. Also, my sweet murderous Kerch wife has a mean right hook.”

“Thankyou for the demonstration of your acting skills,” Kaz rasps drily, scratching his spoon on his serving board for the last flecks of stamppot. “We’re not going to Novyi Zem, though. There are more amplifiers than just the Stag he forced into me, and we’re going to find the rest. I’m going to tear apart every miserable molecule in the Darkling’s body, cell by fucking cell.”

“And you just let me keep talking?”

“It was entertaining.” Kaz licks his spoon, and then the board. Any second now, Jesper will tell him there’s more left in the pot. “Write your Da. We’ll keep your plan as a backup, in case everything goes horribly wrong. You’ll need a ring, though, to make it official,” and Kaz starts rooting through the kefta pockets.

Jesper can’t breathe. Is Kaz really…? He can’t breathe until he looks at Kaz’ stretched-out, gloved hand, and—

“How the fuck did you steal that one?! I was just wearing it!”

#jesper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x jesper #dimtraces makes things #shadow & bone #shadow and bone

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h4knyeon · 4 years

Text

lessons | changkyun/i.m (monsta x)

changkyun x reader

genre: smut, slight crack (i had to put this because i just make dialogue between characters weird)

word count: 1.8k

summary: your best friend changkyun doesn’t mind letting you learn some tips from him, and you take him up on the offer.

warnings: oral (male receiving), mature language

part two

“you know, sometimes i wonder what semen tastes like,” changkyun randomly announced to you. you were in his kitchen, making yourself a glass of water when he made the statement from the couch.

“huh? that was random,” you chuckled, “why don’t you just taste your own?”

you were used to having these types of conversations with changkyun. sometimes, you would talk about these things in front of your other friends, the two of you unphased while the others would be yelling out disgusted remarks.

“well, what if i taste my own and it sucks? i’m gonna be sad for the rest of my life knowing my shit is wicked,” he laughed. “plus, that was kind of a hint for you to tell me what the average man’s semen tastes like.”

“how would i know?” you walked back to the living room, standing by the couch and taking a gulp of water from your glass.

he looked up at you and furrowed his brows. “are you telling me you’ve never tasted cum before?”

“uhhh no.” you took another sip of your water.

“so you’ve never made a guy cum from a blowjob?”

you rolled your eyes at him. “i’ve never even given a guy a blowjob.”

his jaw dropped. “are you kidding me?”

“no. and why are you so surprised?” you raised your brows at him.

“i don’t know, you just seem like a whore,” he laughed lightheartedly.

“okay you fucker,” you poked back playfully. “i’m just scared i’m not gonna give a good blowjob so i just don’t give them out. i don’t wanna be the talk of the town for sucking at sucking.” you shrugged.

“wow, and i thought i knew my best friend… this whole time she’s been an inexperienced loser.”

“well, you haven’t tasted semen, i haven’t tasted semen. it seems to me like we’re on the same level my friend.” you placed your glass of water down on the coffee table in the living room, and plopped onto the couch, swinging your legs over changkyun’s lap.

“well at least i know what makes a good blowjob. i could give you some tips if you want,” he offered, a smirk growing on his face.

“what do you mean?” you looked at him, curiosity brewing inside of you, but you didn’t want to make that evident.

“what i mean is, i have a penis, you have a mouth... do i have to make it any clearer?” he rubbed your knee in circles.

“are you asking me to suck your dick?”

“noooo, i’m offering to give you a lesson.” he tucked his bottom lip under his teeth. “so what do you say? a friendly blowjob isn’t gonna hurt anyone.”

“a friendly blowjob huh,” you muttered, leaning back onto the arm of the sofa. you let yourself think for a while, before you hopped off the couch and got on your knees in front of him. “let’s go.”

he looked down at you with wide eyes. “oh wow i didn’t expect you to say yes.”

“well, like you said, it’s not gonna hurt anyone. and i thought, who better to practice on?” you let out a laugh that was tinged with nervousness and playfully slapped his knee. “is this a good position?”

“uh, yeah. i would say this is the best position to get some good leverage. of course you could do it with the guy laying down and the girl between his legs, or you could do the guy standing and the girl on her knees-”

“okay okay, i know i don’t know much about blowjobs but i’m pretty sure you have to get your dick out.” you gazed down at his crotch suggestively. you knew changkyun tended to talk a lot when he was nervous, which was understandable in the position you two were in.

“right.” he undoes his pants and pushes them down his legs along with his boxers, kicking them off to the side. you take in the sight of his semi-hard cock, your mouth beginning to water at the sight. you always thought changkyun was attractive, but you would never admit it. but now the sight of his bare dick in front of you was making your arousal spike through the roof.

you pushed these thoughts out of your head and tried to focus on the task at hand. “so what’s first?”

“well, have you ever given a handjob?” changkyun asked you, softly gripping his cock.

“i’m not a complete prude buddy,” you scoffed, reaching out and replacing his hand with your own. he let out a hiss at the contact, biting down on his bottom lip. you assumed you were doing this to get him ready for the main event, stroking him slowly, making sure to apply pressure before the tip of the cock. with your tricks in mind, you had him bucking into your hand every now and then. when you figured that you had done enough with your hands, you asked him what the next step was.

“well, this varies depending on what you’re in the mood for, if you wanna tease, if you wanna go all in-”

you cut him off by letting your tongue lightly graze over his tip, looking up at him with innocent eyes. a breathy moan slipped past his lips as you lapped at his tip over and over. “sorry, you kept babbling.”

“no, it’s fine. that’s a good warmup move you did there,” he sent you a lazy grin. “now if you wanna take it slow, you can take, um, it, in your mouth little by little.” you laughed at his lack of the use of a more r-rated word.

“like this?” you questioned, keeping your eyes locked on his while wrapping your lips around his tip. he let out a low groan and his hand flew up to reach for the back of your head, but he immediately held himself back. you noticed his hesitation, and pulled off of him to tell him to loosen up.

“i am loose!” he countered. “i just don’t want to hurt you, it’s your first time.”

“thanks for caring kyun but how will i get a true experience if you don’t give it to me?” you smirked up at him. you took the tip of his dick back into your mouth and took his hand, bringing it up to your head. he got the hint and threaded his fingers through your hair. you slowly took more and more of him in until you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. you slowly pulled off of him, hollowing your cheeks as if you were sucking a lollipop. you heard him let out a delicious moan above you, his grip in your hair getting tighter.

“do that again.” he mumbled, his head falling onto the back of the couch. you followed his orders, taking as much of him in as you could and then pulling off of his cock with a pop.

“how do you deepthroat?” you asked neutrally, trying to get down to business.

“well, i would imagine that you relax your throat and try your best,” he laughed breathlessly.

“hm.” you took him back in your mouth, keeping his advice in mind. you inched your way down his cock. starting to feel a resistance in the back of your mouth, you relaxed your jaw and throat more, trying your best to take him all. the tip of your nose brushed against the curls at the base of his cock, and the feeling in the back of your throat urged tears to well up in your eyes. you instinctively swallowed around him, causing his hips to buck up into your mouth. you tried your best to suppress a gag by moaning around him.

“fuck baby,” he whined above you, massaging his fingers into your scalp. the pet name he called you had your thighs rubbing together.

“before i keep going,” you interrupted, replacing your mouth with your hand, slowly stroking him, “give me some more advice.”

“well, if you can’t deepthroat or if your throat gets tired --ah-- you can just take as much as you can in your mouth and jerk the rest with your hand,” he tried to say while choking back moans. “and the slit feels really good when it’s touched, and this spot right here too.” he pointed to an area on the underside of his cock, right where his shaft met the head of his dick.

“hm, you seem to know a lot about this. do you really think this hard when you’re getting blowed?” you let out a giggle, thumbing at the tip of his cock like he suggested.

“ah-- well i just know what feels good baby.” he wore a smirk on his face. but that smirk quickly disappeared when you took the tip of your tongue and ran it in a circle around the head of his cock. his hand went right back into your hair again, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. you flattened your tongue and ran it against the underside of his shaft, wrapping your lips around him once you got to the tip. you held him at the base of his dick, taking him into your mouth halfway and pulling back to the tip. you sped up your motions, jerking his cock simultaneously. you let your saliva coat his cock entirely and drip over your hand, allowing your fist to move up and down easily. the room filled with his low groans and moans along with the wet sounds of your mouth. you looked up at him, keeping your eyes on his. “fuck that’s so hot y/n. you don’t know how many times i’ve imagined your mouth on me,” he breathed, fisting a handful of your hair. soon you had him hurdling towards his orgasm. “baby, stop or i’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he whined. despite his warning, you kept going, wanting to finally taste him. he moaned out your name along with a string of curses, as you felt him twitch between your lips, followed up by ropes of his cum shooting into your mouth.

you swallowed everything, pulling off of him with a pop, and making a show of opening your mouth and showing him that all of his semen was gone.

“so how’d it taste?” he asked, a satisfied smile forming on his face.

“why don’t you try?” he looked at you with a confused look right before you brought your lips to his, immediately slipping your tongue into his mouth and rubbing it against his. he wrapped his thick arms around you, pulling you closer, your fingers getting lost in his locks. you both kissed for what seemed like forever before you both came up for air. “so, you thought about my mouth on you before huh?” you teased him.

“yeah, and a lot of other things,” he snickered, giving you a lingering kiss on the lips.

“well why don’t you tell me about it?” you gripped onto his shoulders and straddled his waist.

“oh, i’ll do more than tell you.”

#changkyun smut #i.m smut #monsta x smut #kpop smut #smut #monsta x fic #monsta x blurbs #monsta x x reader #changkyun x reader #monsta x writings #monsta x writers #i.m x reader

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something-very-special · 3 years

Text

Impressions

I know I’m way behind on progression through Replicant (insofar as anybody can be ‘way behind’ in the sense of playing a video game for personal entertainment), buuuut I figured I’d share a few thoughts.

Presently I’m doing sidequest mop-up post-Barren Temple, for reference:

So just to get this overall out of the way, I am legitimately fascinated by the differences between NIER and Replicant. This is something I picked up on when I played RepliCant to grab footage for my LP, but given my extremely limited understanding of Japanese all I could get was the tone between characters and to my unpracticed ear they sounded pretty different. I always assumed that Weiss was somehow even more condescending to Brother and hah hah, wow. Even kind of expecting the dialogue and delivery differences I was not prepared for some of the dialogue and delivery differences. Weiss just straight-up insulting BroNier on the regular, not even doing sarcastic eye-rolls like he does with Papa. I don’t remember the exact line that set me off but somewhere in the Barren Temple I was just laughing my ass off at how much of a dick Weiss is.

Thought the ‘miracles’ conversation in the Junk Heap was interesting, too. I remember Papa Nier telling Weiss to stuff it because ‘those kids need a miracle’ and Weiss kind of backs down-- obviously doesn’t believe it, but he knows better than to push. And Brother tries but Weiss is just not having this optimism bullshit. Little things, but the tenor of the relationship is definitely different.

One of the more interesting aspects early on is the way the Lunar Tear is treated. Obviously I don’t know if this was part of the original game or a script adjustment, but Brother talking about the Tear as a source of money as opposed to Father saying it can grant wishes was interesting. Maybe it was to justify that Kaine just has a whole necklace of the damn things and therefore it’s rare but not literally magic, but it always sounded like it was just meant to be taken as a myth to me anyway. Then again, it’s established in the Grimoire that Brother has a fixation specifically on making money so he can support himself and Yonah (versus Papa Nier, who has obviously already established himself as an adult rather than a kid still figuring things out and hoping that enough money will solve all their problems).

Where the dialogue doesn’t diverge is interesting, too. Mostly I’m talking about the scene after defeating Hook. I always found Papa Nier exclaiming “You’re going to live, Kaine!” and “Yes, we’re friends now!” to be obvious holdovers from a younger protagonist just goddamn hilarious when Papa Nier is saying them. They’re still really funny with Brother Nier but just remembering Papa Nier doing the exact same delivery in his deep, manly voice just re-elevated the whole scene into comedy gold.

All of that is really why I was interested in getting the game so already my money is well spent. But there’s some other stuff:

They butchered the OST! ...or so people keep telling me on Youtube. I admit I do think the re-orchestrations is largely inferior to the original (although there are some that are at least as good in a different way, and whatever they did to The Lost Forest -- which was one of my least favorite tracks in the original -- I really enjoy) but I wouldn’t call it a butchering and I highly suspect that if I didn’t have the eleven years of the original OST and its association within the game itself I wouldn’t bat an eye, it still all sounds great.

Also, a weird observation, but I found that the soundtrack sounds much better coming out of the TV speakers than through headphones. I’m not sure if somehow it was optimized for play through external speakers, or maybe just not hearing the added orchestration right up against my eardrums, but when I went to the Lost Shrine with headphones on I was admittedly disappointed, but going to it again and listening through the TV it worked significantly better.

(I’m not sure if this is necessarily a factor, but the booklet in the White Snow edition mentions that the new soundtrack was all studio mixed rather than having the individual tracks layered. While I don’t think that would have an impact on music quality it almost definitely makes a difference in the way it’s produced.)

I miss chest-thrusting to double jump Movement overall feels much more refined and polished. It’s not as slick as Automata, but it definitely feels like a natural evolution of the original game, and as an apologist for NIER’s combat I can appreciate that. A little more responsive, I appreciate being able to move while casting magic, and it still has a bit of a crunch behind weapon impact (although I wish it felt a bit heavier).

But goodness I miss the stupid animation for double-jumping. I mean sure, an aerial somersault is a classic indication of a double jump, but I just loved that Nier would chest-thrust so hard he would break the laws of physics and ascend higher.

It also feels a bit like the aerial dodge was nerfed for movement purposes? I really don’t feel as much horizontal thrust to get a running start after diving off the Library balcony.

Fully voiced? Fully voiced?! I knew this was happening but I totally forgot until the NPC villagers started talking to me! Some of the incidental deliveries are a bit awkward, but as somebody whose glasses prescription is a decade out of date I appreciate this immensely.

The item guy in Seafront just being from the goddamn Bronx is a thing of beauty.

BroNier does fit into the Village better. One of the little details I love in the game is that each bit of civilization has its own style. The maps aren’t large enough to really convey how long travel takes, but the different styles between the Village and Seafront just kind of helped to ‘place’ the characters in a really neat, subtle way (Emil’s sash identifies him as ‘belonging to’ Seafront, which is actually pertinent when you get that sidequest where you find the letter from his science-mom in town! I assume she always wore a kicky sash when she went to work in the underground child torture bunker.)

Facade obviously also has their own style, but it’s... hard not to appreciate.

Papa Nier’s dress doesn’t really ‘place’ him anywhere, which doesn’t feel weird for the main character, and I feel like it’s implied that he isn’t really from the Village in a meaningful way anyway and kind of drifted in at some point after Yonah had been born. But younger Brother Nier is actually wearing the local fashion and it’s a neat little detail that I didn’t appreciate back when I played PS3 RepliCant. (Probably because I didn’t bother talking to any NPCs what with not being able to read the dialogue, so I never really had him standing next to anybody for long enough to process.) Older Brother Nier takes on a very different outfit that winds up displacing him from the rest of the Village (and any other towns), which is a pretty nice visual metaphor, too.

I have a confession to make. I still enjoy fishing in this game.

Yeah I said it. I’ll say it again too-- I like the fishing minigame. I happily blitzed through the Fisherman’s available Gambits, and then just caught five sharks while I was hanging out, and then also caught the sandfish ahead of time, and also wound up with a half-ton giant catfish (??!?) trying to remember where the black bass are located.

Cart me away.

Related but I laughed far too hard when the fisherman says “the WESTERN beach”. I wonder why they changed that line. I just can’t imagine.

And those seals. Always a delight to go to early Seafront and just plant yourself between a couple of seals. Watch the ocean. Listen to the music and the waves. Watch the seals lazily roll around and make cute seal barks.

The most depressing thing about the timeskip is losing those seals.

My garden--! The gardening timeskip exploit was fixed due to a difference in PS4 architecture. :/ I know there’s still an exploit involving time zones but I didn’t go in knowing that and I was horrified when I adjusted the system clock only to find my crops weren’t growing. Is Legendary Gardener still a trophy? Fffffuuuuu

My BARREN TEMPLE. The Barren Temple is, to me, a legitimately funny dungeon, between Sechs getting himself abducted, Kaine getting herself abducted and Nier and Weiss just sighing in resignation, and the whole concept of the rules-based challenges. And the adjustment they made to the Prince’s dialogue before you meet him is so good-- the original felt a little disjointed and felt like it ended with the Prince being confused. It was still funny, but here Weiss just gives zero fucks about insulting the Prince (and presumably knows that’s exactly who he’s talking to) and it’s just great.

And I say all of that because I just died laughing when I got to the infamous Racing Wolf room and saw they outlawed evasion.

Evasion works differently in this game anyway so you wouldn’t have really been able to do the same trick before (dodge roll; in the original release you would dodge roll forward by tapping the button, but a default evasion has you backstep. Of course you could arrange BroNier to face away from the trap and then evade, but it would be significantly dicier, and I feel like the pattern on the shots was awkward enough that you wouldn’t have an opening in the second row (and probably would’ve have dodged your ass right into the bullets anyway). But just that they acknowledged the trick and then flipped you off with it was amazing. Aggravating? My amusement far outweighed my frustration since the Defend trick was still solid.

It also felt like more rooms outlawed jumping? That I can’t corroborate (I was really focusing on whether they did something to Racing Wolf, which is of course the most traumatic of the rooms) but I feel like it wasn’t as easy to cheese some of those rooms as it had been previously.

Dark Blast is amazing. Cheesed the shit out of the actual ‘Evasive Mouse’ room, though. I remember having some difficulties when the miniboss shows up since you can’t dodge out of the way of his lava pillar attack, but I just circle-strafed with Dark Blast and he died comically quickly.

This is actually more relevant to the magic as a whole, but in the time since I first played NIER (so... probably the time I fifth played NIER) I learned more about the little intracacies of the magic system. Like, really little intricacies, like how you can use magic with just a button tap and it actually has different effects... like Dark Blast dealing significantly more damage. It’s not as easy as just holding down the button and getting the multi-shot off the charge, but for a single enemy like that just rapid-fire tapping the button chews through the lifebar.

This tap strategy is really appreciated for Dark Hand (forward thrust punch) and Dark Lance (which is even better thanks to the game’s lock-assist-- a much appreciated quality-of-life adjustment), and I look forward to getting Dark Execution because of its fast activation feature (spreading the lances in a forward cone in front of you, extremely useful for crowd control when you can’t afford to wait for Execution to charge up).

Fragile Delivery still sucks. I don’t know why I had such a terrible time with the first Fragile Delivery but I broke that... Ming vase or whatever you’re delivering half a dozen times. Send that guy a steel rug instead, Guard #3, he is not worth whatever piece of art you had me destroy six times.

And the game still holds up. This is probably a ‘needless to say’ thing but yeah, this is still a great game. I always have a little bit of apprehension going back to something I loved just in case there’s a rose-colored effect going on. Not that I really expected that to happen with this game (I’ve played NIER recently enough that I didn’t think nostalgia would blind me) but, you know, always a possibility.

(That and that the remaster would be... perhaps of dubious quality. It happens.)

Nope! Still engaging. Still charming. I’m always impressed to go back to this game with all the knowledge of its inevitable misery and remember that it’s also just plain funny. NIER is one of those games that’s just like I remember it but better every time I go back to it.

I’m so glad that Automata did well enough to spur greater interest in this game. It really didn’t get the chance it deserved back in 2010 and now it’s topping some of the sales charts. That’s fantastic.

Just... fantastic.

#NIER #NieR Replicant #Musings #Now I just need Threads of Fate remastered and my life is complete #SE don't do that I know you'll ruin it

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fancyfade · 3 years

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Damian remembers the second time he arrived in Gotham, after he'd left Mother.

He hated it. He hated having no mission, nowhere to go. The boredom of the days as he monitored the city but did not act on his notes, in case Father would discover him before he was ready. The apathy and stagnation of no training schedule. The –

fear is the wrong word, but he cannot think of a replacement – when he woke up each time in a new place – waking up to the shattering of glass as the bottle he placed on a restroom doorknob broke when his sanctuary was invaded, waking up tied to the top of a tree outside of town, to keep himself out of sight of any aggressors –

There really was something to be said for going to sleep in the same bed every night. For... well, everywhere is enemy territory. Damian should know that and only an idiot wouldn't.

But when he was living with Grayson before all this, he was at least confident that if Grayson chose to attack him, it would be in a predictable manner. Due to one of Damian's actions, presumably to restrain him from using excessive force.

Now – Grayson isn't aggressive. He wouldn't fight Damian physically. But it'd be better if he did, it'd be easier to deal with if he would attack him than if he would manipulate him with lies. At least Damian knows how to react to the first situation.

keep reading

okay so. Very long chapter. Decisions under cut

I kind of feel like while Damian doesn’t technically need Alfred and Dick to live day-to-day life but does benefit from having someone providing structure and looking out for him... not that he would ever say that 😂 but a lot of early on stuff is typical kid stuff where Dick is providing most of the structure and crime fighting lessons and we see Damian trying to be independent and set boundaries (leaving when Dick tells him off for beating the information out of someone in B&R #2, not telling Dick about Colin because he wants to have some allies away from Batman in Batman: streets of Gotham)... kind of like typical kid stuff. Which is nice.

re: Damian's kill-code. I don't think he really felt like it was wrong at the time when he killed people, but I do also think that he wasn't murder-happy (and probably didn't even like doing it). It's not like he was killing people because he really liked killing people, it was always for a reason. He's only ever really shown to fight combatants and in Robin: Son of Batman a lot of his rhetoric is clearly he's doing it for his family – because you know, that's what he's been told he had to do. We can see that with Goliath where he projects onto Goliath and tells Goliath that he should fight for his family and his entire family is counting on him. Also significant that even though Goliath is an animal, not a person, we see Damian doesn't kill Goliath when Goliath is not fighting back. I think even if he hadn't met Bruce and Dick, Damian would have eventually been unable to keep going through with Ra's' plans (like in-character Talia is).

I also think that, because it's Ra's' entire thing, Damian probably thought that killing people for Ra's was saving the world and I imagine that (+ the doing it for family) is probably what he had to tell himself if he ever had doubts.

Damian did get to have one of the lines I liked in Morrison's run (being Robin is the best thing I've done) just I used it in a different context here, because I do think that he likes being able to save people (since we see him be concerned about civilians safety way earlier than we see him ever think killing people is wrong). But yeah Chapter 45 was the explicitly rejecting Ra's' offer (for himself and his own reasons, not because he thought Bruce was approving) and this one is the deciding to be Robin.

I also know that while it is probably narratively frustrating for Damian to still insist that he's doing this at least partly due to his dad, I do really like the gradualness of his character arc and don't want to erase that in my fic. So we can see that while he has motives for wanting to do it himself (feeling a responsibility to civilians and liking being able to live with it easier, appreciating Dick's training) he's still going to phrase it as if it's related to Bruce, even if it's in a challenging way now (like “I’ll be better than you thought I could”) not in a “please like me/ doing what you wanted” way.

Re: what Talia tells Damian about his destiny. I changed it slightly from Batman and Robin #0 because even though I do regard the Batman and Robin 2011 series and Robin: Son of Batman as my main character reference for a lot of Damian stuff, the “you will lead the Al Ghul dynasty and save/rule the world” thing Talia tells him seemed like the writers were trying to give Talia something positive to say to Damian but while not completely going against how she acted in Morrison's writing? But I really prefer @sapodilas's interpretation of Talia where she's a burned out idealist (link) and she wants something better for her son – that's why in my fic she just tells him he'll be able to do great stuff (and be free 😭) without imposing expectations that he will rule the world or anything on him.

Also as you can tell in my interpretation Talia was preparing to leave the League for a while – that's why she told Damian about all the security flaws in the bases (which he then used to hide from Ra's when he helped break himself out) and that was the purpose of the birthday fight in the Batman and Son rewrite fic – she wanted to establish an excuse to take Damian away from Ra's for a bit before she needed to use it.

Technically when Damian was having his internal monologue about Talia the initial monologue was like 'he'd only seen the part of her she'd let him see / that he wanted to see' thing here but I feel like that might be a bit too mature a thought for him at the moment with how much resentment he has on her for things not being how they used to be and feeling like he wasn't trained well enough earlier.

The Bruce wanting Damian to be free from both his and Ra's' destiny is from Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul ending (also I find it kind of sad/funny that Bruce is better at understanding Damian needs to develop himself as a person and not just follow in his footsteps before he raises him, then when he's raising him he's bad at making Damian feel that way and Damian thinks Bruce just wants him to be a mini-Bruce in Batman and Robin 2011)

Either way hope you liked it this was almost certainly 1 of the longest plotlines I've done so far in this fic!

#dc comics #dc fanfic #damian wayne #robin #batman and robin #dick grayson #we were the best #batfam #my fanfic

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