“I’m sorry. This isn’t a problem I can make disappear, and you know that… But I may be able to shift it.
It’s better this way. I’ll be fine.
This may hurt. And if I can’t tell you again… I’m sorry I ever did this to you.”
Do you think I can meet him? —
Uh, I don’t think we’re quite there yet. I’ve only talked to him a little, and I don’t even know if he likes me. —
Like you? Of course he likes you! Who doesn’t like you?
“Is Bruce in here?” Tim figured he might be— Bruce spent a lot of time in the children’s wing of Wayne Enterprises. There were a dozen or so kids in daycare most weekdays, and Bruce liked to hang out.
Tim liked to hang out too. They had nice snacks, and he’d known most of the kids since they were toddlers. And sometimes naps were mandatory.
“Conference call,” Damian told him. (For someone who claimed to hate naps, snackfood, kids, and humanity in general, Damian also spent a lot of time in the children’s wing.) “I don’t know where.”
He went back to what he was doing, which was arranging a set of pewter soldiers into a complex model of a battlefield, presumably for the benefit of the preschooler sitting next to him.
“The Battle of Issus, 333 BC.”
“Right, obviously.” Tim decided he was curious, so he settled down on the mats to watch. Damian finished his model; he pulled a marker from the art table and used it as a pointer.
“Okay. This is the Macedonian army, outnumbered but in the better tactical position, south of the Pinarus River. Their leader is Alexander the Great. And this—” He pointed to his enemy line. “—is the Achaemenid Empire. They’re about to lose.”
Damian tapped his marker on the Macedonian right. “This is the companion calvary, Alexander’s elite force, and they—” he cut off when he noticed his pupil digging in the toy bin, clearly distracted. The kid came up with a battered Transformer, which he set behind Damian’s lines.
“Elliot. Alexander did not have robots.”
“But,” said Tim, rummaging through the box himself, “did he have wizards?” He pulled a bearded magician out of the tub and held it up for Damian to see.
“You know he didn’t.”
Tim passed the wizard to Elliot. “But what if he did?”
“How would that go?”
“Abracadabra, Alexander!” Elliot yelled, gleefully smashing through Damian’s entire left flank.
“Damn it, Drake.” Damian sighed in frustration— not quite the rise Tim was hoping for, but still something. He dropped Elliot’s discarded robot back into the box.
“I don’t know what you were expecting,” Tim told him. “Elliot’s four. He’s too young for— what is this— military history?”
“He was doing fine before you showed up.” Damian started to re-erect his soldiers, but he gave it up after Elliot came in for a second pass. “Which is typical, isn’t it?”
“Thank you.” Damian crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll bite. When is he supposed to learn this kind of thing?”
“High school? Maybe never.”
“That can’t be right.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“Frequently.” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m getting a second opinion.”
Damian checked the room for potential allies. “Thomas?” he called over his shoulder, “You learned military strategy as a kid, right?”
Duke looked up from the book he was reading to a pair of kindergardeners. “Just you, man.”
“Told you.” Tim fished a bag of plastic ninja from the toy box and arranged them pointedly into a row. “How are you still surprised by this kind of thing?”
Damian glared at him. “Okay, first of all? I’m not a— hold on a second. Elliot!”
Elliot froze with a large, plastic dinosaur held aloft over the battlefield. He drew it sheepishly back to his chest. “Sorry.”
“Not in the calvary wing,” Damian told him. “You’ll scare the horses.”
“Here?” Elliot pointed to the front of the phalanx.
“Aim for his center.” Damian turned back to Tim. “Anyway. Why are you still talking to me? I thought we had an agreement about unnecessary contact.”
hunk’s mama: hunk is almost two years old and he still hasn’t said anything yet… do you think we should be worried? do- are we bad parents?
hunk’s mom: of course not, honey! every kid is special, y’know? they all go their different ways. and our hunkadunk of dippin dot love is fine just the way he is <3
hunk’s mama: (sighs) you’re right, of course. but you know me. i’ve never been able to let things lie, i always have to tinker with them. i know i shouldn’t project my own insecurities onto our baby, but…
hunk’s mom: babe, you’re not the first parent to overthink themselves, and you won’t be the last. maybe we’ve just been approaching this all wrong! we’ve only ever talked at hunk… what if we tried to have a conversation with him, or something?
hunk’s mama: it’s worth a shot.
hunk’s mama: (squats down next to hunk) hunk? baby? do you think you could say something, just for mama? i’m sad that i still haven’t heard your beautiful voice.
hunk: (continues sucking on hand)
hunk’s mom: … sorry, honey. it was a longshot anyway-
hunk: (removes hand from mouth) i’m sorry, mama. i didn’t realize i was making you sad ‘cause i don’t like talking. i’ll try to talk more though if you want me to!
okay so i was having thoughts this morning about how i believe that obi-wan was probably t h e best master for anakin under the circumstances (and a few others) and how as much as i hate predestination, if you accept anakin as (one of?) the chosen one(s), then he is fated to bring about the fall of the Jedi - cos you can’t have balance when the lightside outnumbers the darkside by as much as it does. and i started thinking about how what if the universes where obi-wan is his master greatly delays him fucking off to the darkside and bringing about the end of the Order? well, he was all of 23 when that happened, which means in other universes, where obi-wan is not his master, he probably abandons the order much younger than that.
okay, so - an au where.
an au where qui-gon lives. despite reasons why it probably wouldn’t happen, he becomes anakin’s master, obi-wan fucks off to do Knight Things and Grow As His Own Person. anakin has his canonical crisis of faith and great realization that being a jedi is difficult and not actually all that he thought it was going to be. he fucks off from the order - say around the age of fifteen?
qui-gon, despite everything, goes off to hunt him. despite this “betrayal”. after all, anakin is the chosen one, right? so he even goes so far as to call in obi-wan to help him find anakin. meanwhile, anakin is employing every last trick in the book to remain out of reach. he won’t go back - he won’t. he can do more good out there in the galaxy, instead of tied down by the (hostile, tbh) jedi order.
it just so happens that obi-wan finds him. rather than try to arrest him or anything (leaving the order is not a ‘take into custody’ offense, as obi-wan well knows) and actually talks to anakin about the reasons why he’s fucked off. he finds the reasons understandable. besides, becoming a jedi is not being conscripted. anakin has the right to leave if he feels like it. obi-wan tells him that it’s fucking dangerous for a half-trained force sensitive out there in the wild galaxy, but when anakin doesn’t change his mind (because he’s hella stubborn tbh) obi-wan is just like “welp” and lets him go. he tells qui-gon he never found anakin, but that it’s really unreasonable to hunt the kid down for fucking off. it’s another thing that qui-gon and obi-wan don’t see eye-to-eye with.
so that’s that, right? they’ll never see the chosen one again.
but wait, there’s more. So of course the Sith find anakin. he must bring balance to the force. Dooku and Sidious play bad cop/good cop until anakin is firmly under Sidious’ thumb. (presumably, Qui-gon would have found nine hundred different ways to keep anakin away from palpatine, who might even have been the one to plant the idea of running off into anakin’s head on the few times when he was allowed to speak with the kid). anakin goes corrupt, as you do when siths are fucking with your head, and the story proceeds.
here it is, the fall of the jedi order, and order 66.
ymmv what happens to qui-gon. does he live through even this? or is he shot down protecting obi-wan? in either case, obi-wan survives as he tends to, trying to regroup with the rest of the surviving Jedi. of course, you have this wretched sith lord, Darth Vader, hunting them all down. his skill with a blade is unparalleled. no jedi who has faced him has survived.
when he finds them, obi-wan stays back, sacrificing himself to save the others. and yet, to his surprise, darth vader does not kill him. darth vader himself does not understand entirely why, only that once when he was very young, a jedi heard him out and let him go.
he does not let obi-wan go, but neither does his blade fall.
Someone please talk to me about the fact that King Butterfly knows what it means for a princess to be evaluated, and that fact that Baby annoys him because she eats all of his food, and why does that sound familiar, oh yeah, because that’s exactly how Baby treated Marco.
It’s all too easy to imagine a young Moon Butterfly, nearly fifteen years old and dreading her first evaluation. She pours over her spellbook, determined to memorize everything, and frowns when Glossaryck says, “You’re not ready for that one” because Glossaryck is always so honest, even when his words cut deep.
“Has a princess ever failed her evaluation?” she asks. Her voice is steady, practiced, and proper, undaunted by disappointment or hardship.
“Yes,” Glossaryck replies. “And even if they hadn’t, who’s to say that you couldn’t be the first?”
She doesn’t blink at that, doesn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. She will, later, many years down the line, when Chauncey falls in battle and the whole world is crumbling apart, she’ll show Glossaryck just how deeply things affect her and just how hard she can cry, but for now there’s only one person she shares those things with, and he’s well outside the palace walls.
River is quite something to see in his youth, fearsome and fearless and strong. Most would say he has hair like sunlight but it’s always reminded Moon of the stars, shining yellow and bright alongside her namesake. He’s so different from her own family, so wild and loud; he says exactly what he’s thinking and doesn’t hide it behind guile and double-meanings, false smiles and polite words. He introduces the revolutionary concept that it is alright to express one’s emotions, to shout when one is angry, or declare one’s love in the middle of a tourney, because the princess has bested many monsters and he hopes to one day be as capable as she.
Moon doesn’t admit, at first, how nervous she is or how frightened, but River can tell. River’s learned to read the way she holds her hands, or the way her mouth thins out to silently reflect what she’s feeling, and he pulls her away from the rowdy, rude Johansen clan and wraps his arms around her.
In time, they return to the palace. River likes it here about as much as Moon likes the Johansen’s; he can see it from her point of view, appreciate it in a way, because it’s a symbol of Mewman tradition, steeped in ceremony and significance. These things are as vital and natural to Moon as breathing, but to River it will never quite feel like home.
They lock themselves in the kitchen and delight in roast boar and little pastries that River cannot name but also cannot stop eating. It’s here that Baby finds them, and here that Moon’s evaluation begins; Baby asks her to pass an apple from the counter and Moon hesitates, her hands folded, her mouth thin.
Suddenly, River picks up the apple and tosses it. It flies over Baby’s shoulder and splatters against the wall, and River laughs from deep inside his gut and cries, “Do I pass? Am I a princess?”
The corners of Moon’s mouth curve ever slightly upwards, and all at once her fear is gone, because no matter how poorly she does, it won’t be as bad as that.
Summary: It had been weeks since you and Chanyeol had done anything together. You missed him a lot and you were growing increasingly frustrated with each passing day. One night while on your laptop you come across something that has you desiring more.
Author’s Note: This was a HUGE pain in the ass to write so I really hope you enjoy it! Please let me know if you liked it, that mean so much to meh ;-;