#‘I’m going on a whole adventure to learn more about my dad because maybe he’s alive actually’

[therainbowwillow]

I love Epic The Musical very dearly but I do wish just a little bit that we’d gotten to watch Telemachus’s antics in Pylos. His gay awakening(?) over Pesistratus? Athena disguised as an old man?? Nestor and Menelaus?! HELEN! He really has a bewildering time away from Ithaca lol

[lillypad910]

Making Our Home Part 1

Pairing: abused!Billy Hargrove x abused!F!reader

Part 2

Uses (y/n) because I hate “x readers” that are actually OCs

Word Count: 7,789 (yes exactly, I wrote this in my notes app and copied it to word for this count and I went “OH” and this is only about HALF of the note so- still have an extra part that’s already another 7k words).

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! smut, unprotected sex, protected sex, swearing, violence, blood, abusive parents (both reader’s parents and Billy’s dad), “cheating” (Billy and reader aren’t actually dating), Billy is a jerk BUT character growth (Billy gets better I promise, so does Reader’s dad I definitely projected my own daddy issues, so I apologize in advance), pet names (Doll)

Summary: (y/n) has lived in Hawkins, Indiana her entire life. Everyone knows her, she’s the one that sits in the second row of class, with good grades, is kind, and has lots of friends. Billy was the new guy at school, the new “king” of Hawkins High. He’s a complete jerk to everyone, even her. So why does she feel so safe with him…?

A/N: This is something I’ve been working on for over a year now, and I think I finally got it to where I’m comfortable to share. I hate when Billy is written as this “jerk but nice to you” cliché, cause let’s be real, he wouldn’t be. He’s a racist and an asshole, but I think having someone who understands his source of anger would help let him begin to learn love.

Also Scent idea: Coconut Sandalwood (bath and body candle) is EXACTLY what I imagine Billy to smell like without the smoke or cologne. Like y’all KNOW that’s his Shower gel 😩 (I may have bought one for that reason 👀)

You can’t remember when these nights began. Maybe it was the supposed ‘one night’ that started the comfort you feel with him, or maybe the continued nights you both shared after, maybe the safety you felt in his arms. You weren’t sure. All you knew is that you didn’t hate it, unlike everything else in life.

Billy Hargrove moved to Hawkins with his dad and new step mom and step sister. You had lived in Hawkins your whole life, so when the new boy took charge as the new ‘King’ of Hawkins High School, you weren’t a stranger to it. Walking around school, you always thought Billy was attractive, like any other girl. Billy was everyone’s new favorite.

Growing up here, you were known around as the girl with a kind heart. But they all didn’t really know you. You were a kid in the second row, focused on school. But what people didn’t see was the important part. Your dad is a drunk, has been since you were little. Your mom cheats on him by going to the bar every night and not coming home until 3 in the morning, wobbling in the door, rolling her eyes seeing your dad passed out on the couch. Every morning awoke to screaming and crying, your mom being shoved into a wall and slapped, maybe a punch to your dad’s chin.

You didn’t understand why they didn’t divorce. Actually, that’s a lie. Your little sister was the reason, she was the only thing keeping you there, only thing keeping your broken family on the string.

Sometimes in bursts of anger during your mom’s late night adventures, your dad would wake and mistake you for her, beating on you and calling you names. You look so similar to your mom, that you blow it off as the blurry vision of alcoholism.

The abuse never stops though, it’s a constant spiral into farther depression. Your only hope is getting good grades and getting a scholarship, going away to college, moving out of this town, maybe taking your sister with you. It is the only chance you both have at a better life.

Or at least thats what you thought.

Billy was the first person you felt safe with. You weren’t about to loose that either.

Laying out on his bed, his hands squeezing your thighs as you both moan into the now humid air of his room. You feel safe and warm, comforted by his large hands against your skin. His lips smother yours in sloppy kisses, begging for you more. You love him. God, you love him. He slams into you harder, making your back arch. “Fuck, (y/n)…” his voice is raspy and deep, lulling you to reach up to his face and cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you for a kiss. A real kiss.

When the event is finished, he lays over you, arms around your waist. You drink in everything about him. His curly hair sprayed out over your bare chest, his sent, fuck, his sent. He reeks of cigarettes, but a strong sent of a hefty cologne masks most of it, something woodsy, but you can still smell his shower gel or maybe his shampoo? Something with coconut, something you can’t notice unless he’s this close. You reach your hand up to pet his hair, but he pulls away before you can, getting up and throwing away the condom.

Things with Billy aren’t easy. He’s rough and mean, never one for aftercare unfortunately, which is really all you need sometimes.

Walking over to his dresser, he grabs the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it. He places it in between his lips before pulling on his boxers. You lay there for a minute, trying to have his sent linger there as long as you can. You finally sit up, looking over to the mirror over his dresser, looking at him through it. He stares down on something on his dresser. You look at yourself in the reflection. You have hickeys all on your body, a blush creeping up your face as you stare longer at the marks he left on you.

“You staying or going tonight?” He asks, blowing out smoke from his mouth. “Am I allowed to stay tonight?” You ask, eyes glittering at the man in front of you. You’ve stayed before, but every time you felt like you were forcing him to let you, and you hated it. You hated forcing him to do things, he would just get mad about it. “You can. Not like you haven’t before.” He doesn’t look at you, but you can hear the annoyance in his voice.

You never understood why you feel safe with him. Maybe it’s more that he’s better than being at your house.

“I would like to…” you mumble. He opens a drawer in his dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, turning around and throwing it at the foot of his bed. You crawl over, legs shaking and pick up the shirt, throwing it over your head.

When you look up, a light gasp leaves you when you sees he’s standing right in front of you. His hand reaches and grabs you chin, tilting it up to make you look at him. “Don’t get too cozy with me, Doll, I’m not a kind man.” He drops your chin and snuffs out the cigarette in the ash tray on his dresser before turning back to you. “You know this already though, right?” He asks, leaning back. You nod, staring at him. “Fuck, (y/n), don’t look at me like that. Those soft eyes are gonna kill me one day.” He walks over, wrapping his hand around your neck before smashing his lips to yours. You kiss back almost instantly.

You wake up in the morning, the t-shirt thrown on to the floor at the foot of the bed. You move, only to feel Billy’s hand land on your waist and pull you closer to him. He may claim to not like cuddles, and only in this for sex, but he always does this in the morning.

He always pulls you close, snuggling his face into your hair. You love waking up to this Billy, this gentle, kind Billy. Still sleeping Billy.

You hear his alarm go off and you sigh, knowing it will wake him up and he’ll pull away. He always pulls away. You snuggle into his chest, not wanting to move, just enjoy these few moments when he’s unconsciously loving.

Billy shuffles swinging his arm back, slapping his alarm clock, before snuggling into you more. “Five more minutes…” he mumbles. You breath in his scent. You could live like this, right here. Just laying with him. He doesn’t even know he’s holding you but he is.

You close your eyes, and before long, the alarm goes off again, Billy pulls away and you sink from the shift of weight on the bed. He sits up, landing his feet on the floor, stretching his arms before placing his hands back on the mattress. His back covered in scratches. You didn’t even notice them last night. Scratches you made last night. You marked him.

Billy stands, snatching his boxers off the floor and slipping them on. He lights a cigarette, opening his curtain a bit to look outside. The sun blares in and you flinch at the bright light, “For fuck’s sake, Billy.” The words leave your mouth before you can even process them. He turns to you and glares, opening the curtain more just to blind you. “Morning, Doll.” He spits.

You glare at him and snatch one of the pillows off his bed, chunking it at him, “Fuck you, close the god damn curtain.” The pillow hits just at his dresser next to him, “Hey!” Billy yells. You turn over, now pissed off, your wonderful morning turned sour just from him waking up. Billy closes the curtain.

The next thing you know the blankets are pulled off your bare form, the cold air hitting you. You flinch before looking back at him, “What the hell, Billy!?” He slaps his pillow back on the bed just by your head. “Get up.” He glares. “No.” “I’m not asking, (y/n).” “Don’t care.” He rolls his eyes and grumbles, walking over to his closet.

Billy drives you down the road, speeding like a fucking mad man, before parking. “You can go slower, Jackass.” You roll your eyes hopping out of the passenger seat. Max steps out from the back seat, sitting her board down and kicking off towards the middle school. “I drive how I want.” Billy glares at you, before turning around to snuff out his cigarette into the ground. You slam his car door shut and watch him whip around and glare at you. “Fucking hell, (y/n), careful!” You roll your eyes at him again, throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking into the school.

You go your separate ways for the day, focusing on your school work. “(Y/n),” you turn away from your locker to see one of your popular friends. “Party at Carol’s tonight, you down?” You think for a moment.

Your parents don’t care when you go missing for days on end. Hell, you stayed with Billy for an entire week once and then came home at 2 am, dad passed out like usual, the only person acknowledging your absence being your little sister. Your mom asked you the following morning where you had been, but you could tell she didn’t really care. “A friend’s.” You told her. She shrugged it off with a simple “Ok.” They don’t fucking care about you.

“Sure, why not?”

You caught a ride with one of the guys your friend had been trying to set you up with for the past year. God, when will he take a hint. You wear a slutty outfit, hoping Billy will be there, honestly knowing he will be.

Hopping out of the car you spot Billy on the keg stand. Fucking dumbass. When he drops he throws his fist in the air, a cheer goes across the crowd circling him. He catches eyes with you. The guy who drove you wraps his arm around your waist.

Billy would never admit it, but he hates seeing you with other guys. It just pisses him off. He can’t explain why, he refuses to. He glares at you as the guy leads you into the house. Billy can’t keep his eyes off you no matter how hard he tries.

Billy has had a rough life, his mom fucking packing her shit when he was smaller than Max, his dad being a total abusive jackass all the time. He gets told to watch over Max, make sure she’s ok, and if she gets home late or something happens it’s always on him.

But for some fucking reason he doesn’t hate you. He claims he does, cussing you out or calling you a filthy whore when he finds out you slept with another guy. But he never means it. It’s hard because all he’s ever known is hatred.

He knows of the things you’ve dealt with at home, obviously being at your house a few times to learn how shitty your parents were, same with you with his dad. He hated when your dad beat you, he would sneak into you room just looking to let off steam, and find you crying with a bruise on your cheek. He hates you crying.

Billy doesn’t know how to handle tears, so when he finds you crying in your room, all he can do is give you an escape. Laying you back on your bed and roughly making you forget about your pain.

So yeah, seeing you with another guy pisses him off.

Walking into the house, Carol greets you. You give her a quick ‘hey’ before going straight for the alcohol. You take a red solo cup, dunking it into the punch bowl. Steve walks up finding you as you chug it down. “Whoa, whoa, (y/n), hey.” Steve snatched the cup from you. “Fuck off, Steve, not in the mood.” “Just… slow down, damn…”

He hands you the cup and you lean against the counter. “What’s up? You hate parties.” “Feeling like I need a distraction.” You glare at the crowd of teens in the living room, Billy on the other side, now flirting with what ever bitch he can get his hands on.

You know you have no right to be mad, you’re just fuck buddies, not exclusive. But it still pulls at your heart seeing him run his hands over other girls. You can practically feel them roam your skin, gripping at your hips-

“(Y/n)?” Steve pulls you from your stare. “What?” You ask. “You ok? You seem so out of it…” Steve places his hand on your shoulder.

You and Steve have been friends for a while, hanging around the same crowd since elementary. Honestly you used to date, but after you broke it off, trying to focus on school, Steve started going out with Nancy Wheeler, a girl in the grade under you. You thought they were perfect for each other. Steve loves Nancy, but he still cares for you and you for him. You stayed friends even now.

“I’m fine, Steve, I’m fine.” You tell him. He nods and removes his hand. “Ok, if you need anything, just let me know, ok? You’re still my friend, (l/n), you can’t cut me off that easy.” You giggle slightly. He always lightened your mood. “Yeah, dork, I know.” You ruffle his hair and step away from the punch bowl, trying to find the guy you pulled up with. You wanted attention. Even if it meant just more sex, at least maybe you could get aftercare from someone.

You run into Tommy, one of Billy’s friends, who immediately starts flirting with you. You reciprocate, wanting to honestly just have a good time. After a couple dances, Tommy takes you upstairs.

Pulling him immediately onto the bed, you kiss him just wanting someone to touch you. Tommy climbs over you, quick to scurry off his pants, but you stop him. You help him remove them before leaning down, being quick to take him into your mouth.

He’s no Billy, but the rest of your evening consisted of your legs wrapped around his waist, kisses dancing across your neck. You know that if Billy found out he’d be so pissed. So you enjoyed yourself, letting him have you all night long, any position he wanted you. But again, he was no Billy Hargrove.

The next morning, Billy waltzes into the boys locker room. He is already pissed off, you never answered any of his calls last night, couldn’t find you at the end of the party.

When he is getting changed, Tommy starts bragging about a bang he made last night. Billy’s ears perk, curious as to what secret whore was let out at the party. “Fuck, man, (y/n) was incredible.” Tommy smirks to himself. Billy froze. Why the hell was Tommy Hagan talking about you, his girl.

When the group gets out into the gym, Billy steps up to Tommy, “heard you had a good fuck last night?” “Yeah, don’t tell Carol though, she’d flip. Honestly this chick was way better.” “Yeah?” Billy asks, a smile on his face. “Yeah-“ Billy smashes his fist into Tommy’s cheek, practically throwing the guy to the ground. “What the hell, man?!” Tommy yells out, holding his cheek in his hand. Billy grabs Tommy’s shirt and yanks him to his feet, before throwing him against a wall, punching his fists into his face over and over again. Tommy’s face starts bleeding fast, but Billy doesn’t stop.

The fight builds up a crowd quickly, you being included. When you see Billy beating on Tommy you immediately squeeze through everyone, “Billy!” You run up and grab Billy’s arm, pulling him away from Tommy, trying to get him to stop. “Billy, stop!!” You get shoved down to the floor just as Carol comes running up. “Tommy!! Billy, quit it!” Carol smashes her body into Billy, getting him to finally shove off her boyfriend. You quickly stand, getting in between the couple and Billy. “Billy, stop!” You tell him, holding your hands against his chest, which shockingly he stops. Carol cups Tommy’s face in her hands, examining his wounds, before turning to you both.

To be honest you would have felt guilty in that moment, knowing you spent the night at her house with her boyfriend, but you didn’t. Honestly you were more so shocked. You got a reaction from Billy.

“What the fuck, Billy?!” Carol screams at him. The crowd around you watches you all carefully. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” She yells, obviously and rightfully pissed.

“Oh, fuck off, Carol!” Billy yells back. You stare at him, genuinely blown away by the way your touch is calming him down. He glances down at you hands, then back up at your face. His hand lifts and slaps your hand off him. “Get the fuck off. Fuck you. Fuck all of you!” Billy walks out the side door of the gym.

“Tommy? You hear me, baby?” Carol makes her boyfriend look at her. “What the hell happened?” She asks. You turn to Tommy, meeting eyes. “Nothing, he just… fucking attacked me. That fucking psycho.” Tommy breaths out. Carol’s eyes soften, but you knew. You knew Billy found out about last night.

You step out of the school at the end of the day, only to spot Billy walking up. You glare at him, pissed he got in a fucking fight. He was completely ok too, no bruises no marks, Tommy didn’t even stand a chance. “Billy.” You went to go walk past him, but he grips your arm, snatching you to stop and look at him. “You fucking bitch.”

His words slither out of his mouth with the purest venom. “This is all your fucking fault.” His grip on your arm tightens but you don’t move, not even flinch. “Fuck off, Billy. We aren’t dating, remember?” Billy couldn’t help but wanna fucking slap you across the face right there, but he knew if he did, he would be just like his dad.

He glances down and watched for a second as your chest raises and falls. For fuck’s sake he loves your chest. Your entire body. Everything about you. You are his guilty pleasure.

Even now, as you stand before him, knowing you fucked another guy just last night, he still wants you. “God fucking- fuck.” Billy drops his hand, before barging into the school, leaving you alone.

You make it home only to have your mom home, a shocking display. “Hey,” your mom calls as you enter the house, “where the fuck have you been?” She growls. “Your dad’s passed out, Penny has had to heat up fucking egos for the past three days!” You look away from your mother. “You never cared before.” Your mother raises her brow, “excuse me?” You go to repeat your words louder, not having a damn care in the world anymore, but a sharp stink hits your cheek as your face is whipped to look towards the tv.

You take a deep breath, your hand raising to brush against your now red cheek. Your mother’s hand lays out slightly in front of her. “Don’t you. Dare. Talk to me like that again! I’m your mother! You ungrateful-”without even thinking, your hand flies, slapping against her jaw so hard she stumbles. “I don’t have a mom.” Your voice spits with such distaste towards the word. “You have no right. Claiming to be a mom? Please! All you do is fuck around with guys at bars, leaving dad here for me to fucking deal with!” You press you finger to your chest, pressing into your skin. “Me! A teenager! You hate it here! So why don’t you just fucking leave! Life would be so much better if you just fucking died!” You practically spit at her, before running up stairs.

You slam your door shut, pressing your back against the white wood. Sliding down you lift your knees to your chest, allowing yourself to cry into them. You want comfort. You want him. You fucked up so fucking bad and you hate yourself for it. Your mom deserves hell, but you deserve much worse.

Before long banging comes from the other side, making you jump, a quick scream leaving your lips, as you press your weight against the door. “Open the door, (y/n)!” Your mother screams. “Open the god damn door!!” You reach down, tears streaming down your cheeks. You lock the door, before moving as much of your furniture you can in front of the door. You panic, looking around the room.

Opening your window quickly, you climb out onto the ledge of the roof, like Billy has done so many times before. You climb down, dropping to your knees as you hit the ground. You take no time to stand and start running.

Stopping at the door of the house, you knock hard, knowing your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes were gonna give you away. Billy opens the door, his shirt off, “aww, missed me all ready, Doll? Done with that prick, Tommy?” “Oh fuck off.” You hissed at him. You body aches as you stare at him, his bare chest smooth and perfect. He raises his hand and grips your jaw, turning your head to the side to see the red mark on your cheek. You could still feel it stinging.

“What the hell happened?” He asks. Your body betrays you, soft whimpers leaving your lips as more sobs choke up from your throat. Billy stares at your eyes, trying to read your expression. “Did he hit you again?” He was asking about your dad, but all you can do is crumble. “Doll,” Billy stiffens as you lean into his chest, laying your head on his shoulder. As stated before he hates you crying.

“Doll, come in.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you inside, closing the door before slamming you against the wood. You let out a gasp, but don’t protest as his lips fall to yours, deeply placing kisses on your lips. “Fuck, Doll…” his hands raise up your shirt, before lifting you up so you sit around his waist. You run your hands through his hair, melting into his touch. God, you missed him.

He scoops you off the door, letting you lay your head into his neck as he walks you upstairs to his room. He lays you back, pressing soft kisses to your cheek then down your neck. “Billy…” your moans fill his ears, electrifying him. Fuck, the things you do to him. He fumbles with his belt as you lay on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He yanks out his belt from the belt loops quickly dropping his pants and boxers before sliding your underwear down your legs.

He takes no time slamming into you, starting at a fast pace, holding your hips against his waist. Your gasps and screams fill his room, followed by his deep grunts and groans. He climbs onto the bed, pushing deeper into you. Fuck, you made him crazy.

He places a hand on your lower stomach, pushing down, getting a lovely moan to slip out of your perfect lips. “Fuck, (y/n)…” his voice is groggy, deep, he grabs your thighs and pushes them down, opening you to be a perfect display for him. Your eyes roll back. Skin slaps against skin, the temperature in the room rising. “F-Fuck, Billy…” your toes curl.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck!” Billy leans down to kiss your stomach. “God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Doll…” your legs find themselves wrapped around his waist again, each thrust sends him deeper to your core. “B-Billy, please…” your voice begs him. He lets out a soft chuckle, “Please what, Doll? Do you wanna cum?” Billy asks, slapping his hand against your ass. The sting sends a shiver down your spine, but you like it. “Please…” he thrusts faster, your whimpers making this completely worth the workout. “Fuck…” Billy groans as he feels you release around him, making him tumble over his edge. He spills into you, placing his hands beside your head. “God… fuck…”

You pass out within seconds, laying into his bed comfortably. His scent fills your nose as you sleep, making you feel safe.

Billy lays in his bed, unable to sleep. His mind keeps replaying the last few hours in his head.

You passed out over his bed, and to be honest it scared the shit out of him. His body reacted before his brain, grabbing your face and patting your cheeks softly, “(y/n)? (Y/n).” You stirred, a hum leaving your lips, letting him release a sigh of relief. He pulled away from you, pulling out a shirt from his dresser and lifting you up, throwing it over your head. “Why the hell did you have to pass out on me? God, can’t even take it rough.” He mumbles to himself.

He stops when you lay your head on his shoulder. “Billy…” he froze, stiff as a board. “Yeah, Doll?” He spoke quietly. You didn’t answer and he looked over at your face, a soft smile on your lips. Fuck.

He laid you back, lifting your underwear off the ground and lifting it up your legs. He lets you lay back on his bed while he lights a cigarette. He takes a puff only to watch you wiggle in your sleep. “Billy…” his name leaves your lips, and he feels his heart skip each time. “God, what am I gonna do with you, Doll.” He leans over you, cigarette still in is mouth. He brushes your hair out of your face. “You stress me out… make me worry when I don’t know where you are.” He sighs. “God, you’re so pretty…” “Billy…” he brushes his knuckle against your soft cheek, “What’s on your mind, Doll. Tell me, I wanna know.” He mumbles.

He does want to know, he really wants to know. He wants to know what you think of him when you aren’t using a filter, when you don’t shout hate back at him.

“I love you, Billy…” the words are soft as they leave your lips, but just enough to make his heart jump out of his chest. He hasn’t been told he was loved since he was younger than Max, since his mom was still around. But here you were, thrown over his bed, mumbling that you love him in your sleep.

“You’re gonna kill me, Doll.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling the covers over you, letting you sink deeper into his mattress. When he finishes his cigarette, he lays down with you, turning his back towards you.

He doesn’t know how to process this new information. You didn’t know what you were saying, he knew that much. He was bad for you, everything about him was awful, he knows that. But you love him.

You wake up to Billy, his back turned towards you. You glance over at the clock on his nightstand, 2:45. It’s still dark out, you sit up and rub your head. You glance down at yourself, you’re in one of Billy’s shirts, your underwear back on you. “Billy…?” You whisper, you know he’s probably asleep, but you really wanna cuddle him.

You slide yourself closer to him, just wanting to be next to him. You lay your forehead against his back, snuggling into his skin.

Billy feels you move against his back, trying to get closer to him, but not too much to freak him out. He feels his eyes water, unable to handle this much affection, but he let’s you continue to get comfy beside him.

In the morning, Billy is the first to get out of bed, like usual. His usual morning stretch and cigarette. You lay on your stomach, watching him carefully. You could watch this man walk around naked all day.

Billy opens the curtain and you brace yourself for the aggressive beam of light that hits your eyes, but it never comes. He sticks his head around the curtain, peeking outside. When he sees what he wants, he closes the curtain, making sure that the only light coming in is the amount spraying out from the sides.

“Doll,” Billy pokes your side a few minutes later. “Up, come on.” He’s being oddly gentle this morning. You sit up, your body still sore from last night. “Can we just skip today?” You ask, rubbing your eyes with your fist as though you were a child. Billy freezes before turning to you. “Doll, we have a test in physics, we can’t skip.” He tells you.

You like this Billy, a softer Billy. You nod and throw your legs over the bed. You go to stand but your legs wobble and send you crashing towards the ground. “Whoa, hey,” Billy comes over and helps you off the floor, “don’t be fucking stupid, take your time.” You nod as he lets go of you after sitting you back on the bed.

Last night must have been rough, you’ve never not been able to walk the next morning, but here you were, legs shaking as you were needing to get out of bed for school. Billy leaves the room and you take this time to get ready.

You have to stay leaning against furniture and walls to keep yourself from falling over. After your dressed, you try to remember all the events of last night. You remember him fucking you, hard. You remember both of you finishing, but after that it goes dark, until you woke up later in his clothes.

You conclude you passed out. Obviously, that’s the only real explanation. But why was he being so gentle this morning? He’s never this nice, it’s weird.

When Billy enters the room again, you watch him carefully. “Did I do something?” The words slip out nervously. He looks at you confused. “What?” “You’re just… you’re different this morning…” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs. “I mean you passed out last night. Made me have to fucking dress you.” His voice growls.

There he was. A comfort waves over you. “Sorry,” you speak, “I didn’t mean to.” “Yeah, no shit.”

You get into his car, now feeling like your legs aren’t jelly. Max hops into the back, now used to the fact that she doesn’t get the front seat as often anymore. Billy drives you all, speeding like usual and you just ignore it.

Getting out of the car, shutting the door, Billy speaks up, “yeah I know, go slower.” He rolls his eyes. You think for a minute. “Oh my god you’re learning.” Max stifles a laugh getting out of the car. “If only, fucking dumbass will kill us one day.” “Hey!” Billy glares at her. She flips him the bird before dropping her board down and skating off. You walk into the school, heading straight for class.

At lunch you sit down with Carol, who is already crying. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask. Carol sobs and sniffles. “Tommy slept with another girl at the party the other night.” Another girl speaks up. “Carol found out from one of the boys. We think that’s why Billy got in a fight with him, defending Carol.” You wince, knowing damn well Billy wasn’t defending Carol, but the girl Tommy slept with, you.

“That Jackass.” You grumble and the girls all nod. “He fucking cheated, in my own house no less! Then came to school and let me fucking care about him!” Carol growls. “That’s so gross.” “Not cool.” “At your own party, disgusting.” The girls all pipe in, giving their thoughts on Tommy.

“Do you know who the girl is?” One girl asks. Carol shakes her head. Oh thank god. “He refused to tell me, just that she was better. That fucking asshole! That girl better watch her back though, I will fucking find her.”

Walking to your next class you get pulled into a classroom. The door shuts behind you and you whip around. Tommy.

“Tommy, what the hell?” You glare at him. “Sorry, I just…” Tommy takes a deep breath. “I really had fun the other night… and I was wondering…” he steps closer to you and you step back against the wall, “if you wanna maybe do it again sometimes?”

“Tommy, are you fucking serious.” Your eyes widen. “I just ate lunch. With Carol.” You snap at him. “Remember, your fucking girlfriend?” Tommy shrugs. “Not any more, I’m a single man, now, Love.” You wanna hurl at the nickname. “Tommy, it was a one night thing, I’m not interested.” “Oh please, (y/n), you were taking me so well. You expect me to believe that you jumping in yesterday wasn’t because you care about me?” “Yes.” You snarl at him. He hesitates for a moment.

“Oh, oh. I get it now.” He smirks at you. “You wanna keep us a secret, so that you don’t have to feel the wrath of Carol.”

Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s stupid. “No, Tommy. I don’t want to date you.” I clarify. “Who said anything about dating? Just fucking is fine with me, Sweet cheeks.” “Ew.” You go to grab the door but he cuts in front of you. “Ew? Bitch, you’re the reason I broke off a three year long relationship.” He glares at you. “Well maybe instead of thinking with your dick, you should have thought with you head and chose the girl that actually loved you. Not the girl that just wanted attention for a night.” You roll your eyes and shove past him.

Billy is waiting for you at his car when school ends, “have a nice time with Tommy?” He asks. “Fuck off, Billy, nothing fucking happened.” You glare at him. “Yeah, no shit, Doll, you came out ten minutes later, unless it just doesn’t take him that long.” He chuckles at his own words.

“So now what? You’re spying on me? Watching my every move?” You ask him, leaning against his car. He glares at you. “Hell no. Why would I be?” “Oh I don’t know, you just seem to always try to know where I am. What I’m doing.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, (l/n). You’re nothing special.” He tells you. “Yet you keep coming back to me.” You roll your eyes, before walking around the car.

“Hey,” you look up at him, his eyes are narrowed, “you came to me last night, remember? Don’t forget that.” He says opening the door to the driver’s side. “Not waiting on Max?” You ask him. He glares at you, “She can skate home.”

You sit in the car in silence, well as much silence as Scorpions screaming in your ear can give you. Billy bangs his hand against the steering wheel, and you stare out of the window. You look forwards only to see a group of kids on bikes. “Billy,” he looks over at you and speeds up. “Billy, slow down!” You yell at him. He just stares at you, “You know those kids?”

You do. Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, and Will Byers. Mike’s little sister Holly is friends with Penny. “Billy, I’m not fucking joking, slow the god damn car!” You scream at him. You watch the kids speed up their peddling as they all try to race the speed of the car barreling towards them.

You place your hand on the wheel and push it to swerve around them, just missing them. “Billy, you jackass!” You slap his arm. He slams on his brakes, almost making you slam into the dashboard. “Get out.” You look at him shocked. Is he fucking serious? “I said get out!” He yells at you. You grab your stuff and step out of his car. You slam the car door shut and flip him the bird as he speeds off.

“(Y/n)?” Mike looks at you shocked as you turn around to face the group of boys. “Are you guys ok?” You ask, walking over to help lift Dustin off the ground. “Yeah, yeah.” Lucas tries to catch his breath. “Totally.” Dustin stumbles, catching himself on Mike’s shoulder. Will stares at you. “Why were you riding with Billy?” You stare at the group of middle schoolers as they stare back at you.

“It’s a… long story.” You glance to the tree line across the road. “Come on, I’ll walk with you guys.”

As you come by your house, you stop, staring at the building, the boys staring at you. “What’s wrong?” Lucas asks. “Nothing. Just thinking. You guys go home, now. It’ll get dark soon enough.” You ruffle Dustin’s hair. They all nod and leave you standing outside your house.

You stare at the empty driveway, your mom’s car not there. A relief sets in. You step into your home, shutting the door quietly to not wake your dad. You walk upstairs only to see your little sister’s door peep open.

Her eyes glitter in the crack of the door. “Hey, Pen.” You greet her. She slowly opens her door, “Is Mommy home?” “No, she’s not.” You tell her. She thinks for a minute, you can practically see her gears turning in her head.

She runs out of her room and tackles your legs, “Hey, now, careful. Don’t wanna send me flying down the stairs do you?” She shakes her head against you skin. “Penny,” you crouch down to her height, “I’m sorry I haven’t been home much recently…” you choke out.

You hate leaving her here, knowing she has to hear all the yelling and fighting and not have you with her to help her through it. But you also know it’s better when you’re not here. Your mom treats her with more care than you. You would never hold that against Penny, though. You adore her. She’s the light in this dark house.

You know why your mom favors her also. Your mom and dad haven’t slept together since you were little, so when your mom got pregnant with Penny, you weren’t fucking stupid. Penny isn’t your dad’s kid. She’s some result of a hook up your mom had, some old flame from high school. You know who, though you didn’t know his name. You met him, years ago, when your dad was still working late nights at the plant. Your mom would bring this guy home almost every night.

Even so, knowing who Penny was, she was still your sister, no matter who or where she comes from. You love her.

“Have you eaten?” You ask her. She shakes her head and looks up at you. “What do you wanna eat?” Her eyes light up. “Pizza?” You let a soft chuckle escape your lips, “I can do that, tortilla or do you wanna order?” “Tortilla!” You nod and gesture for her to go downstairs.

Following your little sister into the kitchen, you both quietly pull out all the things you need to make your pizzas, you also preheat the oven to broil on high. You pull out the little step for your sister to make both the pizzas, helping her spread around the sauce onto the tortillas. “What are you girls doing?” You both freeze and look up, your dad now stands in the door way of the kitchen. “We…” you glance towards your sister and back at your dad, “we’re making tortilla pizzas for dinner.” Your dad’s eyes soften, “Oh, mind making me one?” He steps closer and you nod.

You have never seen your dad as a bad guy, he was genuinely a sweet guy when he was sober. When he was still working at the plant, he would take you to get ice cream after his late nights at work. Especially on Saturdays. Saturdays were the day your mom was out of the house for work, but your dad was always home, watching you. Saturdays used to be your favorite day, now you don’t have a favorite.

On Saturday morning you would wake up to your mom leaving for work and your dad just getting off his shift. He would come into the door, tackle you in a bear hug and you would both make breakfast together, pancakes and eggs. Sometimes mixing it up and making waffles. Then after eating, you both would sit on the couch and watch what ever you wanted, usually because he would end up passing out, finally getting some sleep. You didn’t mind that he slept though, happy just to be able to hang out with him for a day.

When he would wake up, sometime around 1:00, you would get into his truck and go to a local diner for lunch, getting a burger and fries. He would always get the turkey club sandwich. After that you would get one banana split and share it, he would always make the day worth the wait.

You miss those Saturdays, nothing but happy memories. You don’t know why that tradition stopped, but it stopped sometimes around when Penny was about 2, and your dad lost his job. Back then he was so kind, only wanting to make you both happy when he could. Now, now he was a shot in the dark.

After you all made your pizzas, you go to pick up the pan and place it in the oven, “Here, Pumpkin,” the nickname catches you off guard when your dad’s rough hand places on top of yours. “Let me, please.” He stares at you, those dark eyes, soft and sweet. You nod, letting him take the tray and place it into the oven. You allow yourself to finally relax.

You all sit around the table, laughing and catching up, as if you all don’t live under the same roof. Your dad’s smile fills the room, making your heart melt. You always did love his smile. After eating, he scooped out some ice cream while Penny and you cleaned the kitchen. You all move to the couch and put on a movie.

Sitting on the couch, your sister now sprawled across it, leaning against your dad’s chest, passed out. Her feet lay on your lap but you don’t mind, it’s nice to see her being comfortable to nap on the couch. You look over at your dad, he’s wide awake, stroking Penny’s hair with his palm. He looks up to see you staring at him.

“What’s up, Pumpkin?” You hesitate, a knot forming in your throat. “I missed you.” The words fumble out of your mouth as tears form in your eyes. “I really missed you.” He smiles softly holding out his arms and you crawl across the couch to him, laying against him, but making sure not to crush Penny in the process. “I know… I missed you too, (y/n).” Your tears run down your cheeks, dampening his shirt.

His fingers run through your hair. He presses a soft kiss to your head. “I’m sorry, I know things have been tough for you, I should have been there.” He nuzzles into your hair. “You’ll always be my little girl, Sweetie. I’m so sorry. You’ve done so well taking care of Penny, taking care of all of us, but you shouldn’t have to do that. God, I’m so sorry.” He kisses you forehead and you can’t stop crying.

His scent makes you feel comfortable, the smell of cigar smoke and cranberry. You missed him, so much.

As midnight strikes on the clock hanging on the wall, your dad wipes away your tears, laying his hands against your cheeks to cup your face, before placing a soft kiss on your nose. “I always hated seeing you cry.” You let out a laugh in between your sobs. “I probably look stupid, nose all runny.” You let yourself smile. “Oh no, never.” He shakes his head, a playful smile on his lips. “Not my little girl, you were always a pretty crier, even as a child, all snotty and whaling around, thumping your fists.” He chuckles to himself.

He lets out a soft sigh. “We should probably get Penny to bed.” You nod, getting up from the couch. You go to scoop up your sister, but he stops you. “I got her. Will you grab the bowls?” You nod and collect all the dirty dishes off the coffee table. You place them in the sink and watch as your dad slowly lays your little sister over his chest, supporting her bottom with his arm.

“Daddy?” You hear her soft voice call out, “Shh,” your dad mumbles to her, “Time for bed, Sweet pea.” She nuzzles into his neck as you come back into view. You follow your dad up to her room, helping him lay her down in her bed. “Good night, Penny.” Your dad places a soft kiss on her head, and she hums in response. He steps out, turning off her light and shutting the door as quietly as he can.

“She’s gotten big.” He puts his hands in the way he was having to carry her, obviously exaggerating. You let yourself giggle. He smiles at your laugh. “Tomorrow is Saturday, right?” He asks. You think for a moment. Tomorrow is Saturday. “Yeah,” he smiles and lifts a hand to ruffle your hair.

“How about we reawaken our old tradition, make breakfast in the morning and go get lunch at the diner across town?” Your heart thumps in your chest. “I would like that, Dad. I would like that very much.” You smile, a genuine smile. “Good. Now, get to bed, Pumpkin.” He pulls you in for another hug, before heading back downstairs.

You make it into your room, slowly shutting the door. You know by morning, he probably will have forgotten, probably be drunk on whiskey again. You know he probably will forget about the whole evening he spent with his two little girls on the couch, shoving ice cream into your mouths and a movie on the screen. But you don’t care, you want to soak in the night for as long as you can.

[gaiathewildanimal]

So I’m gonna be writing a Caine x Pomni moral story on notes so I’ve decided to make a little comic since I needed a photo for the cover but I couldn’t really be bothered to make a photo edit with Light X instead so I made a comic instead… maybe just with a few tweaks with some stickers that I added to the eyes to make them a bit more expressive but that’s pretty much it. Also in this fanficion the whole story line is gonna be about how Pomni thinks that Caine is trying to make her suffer so she yells at Caine but Caine scolds her in return making Pomni feel upset but everyone tells Pomni that it’s alright because they got scolded by Caine before and they explained to Pomni that Caine only wanted the best for her and the only reason that he wanted her to go on these risky adventures was because he wanted to toughen her up and help her pratice for not abstracting in the future so she can learn to cope with her circus life. Pomni also learns that Caine only yelled at her because he just wanted the best for her. In my fanfiction despite the circus members being adults they still need to learn to cope with they’re circus life’s so Caine will always scold them even though they are grown ups so he can teach them to respect him as the ringmaster because despite the fact that everyone’s a grown up in The Amazing Digital Circus he wants to teach each circus member to respect him so he can keep them safe.

Even though Caine may be in love with Pomni in this fanfiction he will act like a dad to Pomni it doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s a father to her but he will treat Pomni in a similar way to one as he will give Pomni discipline to help her cope in the circus but despite that he will still treat her like his crush most of the time because she is. Also Caines whole purpose in this fanfiction is that he loves and cherishes every circus member in his circus but does things out of love and doesn’t always show his love in a clear way so he won’t just treat Pomni like his child but he will treat everyone else like that as he’s helping the circus members to handle life outside the circus tent on adventures or from being in the circus.

Also since there’s no parents in The Amazing Digital Circus will be the reason why the ringmaster Caine makes the rules rather than the parents and the reason behind why he gives out the discipline to everyone even though it’s usually the parents job.

And that’s gonna be the whole plot for my fanfiction so here’s the comic that I’ve made as an example for what I’m gonna use as my fanfiction cover!🤩

[andro-dino]

Okay okay okay I know I’m coming out of nowhere with this buT KyoTsuHyo family??? KIds??? DesIgNs or HeadCanONs????? Would they have BABIESSS????? Thank you for encouraging my insanity

oooo honestly I dunno, I haven’t really thought about this much. Although recently, I have been having thoughts about making a kyoya fankid with an unspecified second gene provider just bc I really do love kyoya and his billion husbands and singular wife all raising this one child together bc I think it’s a fun dynamic. They say it takes a village to raise a kid, I think a massive polycule works just as well. The idea for this kid though would be that she would be basically exactly like Kyoya but a little girl, with her being a very ambitious blader and Kyoya serving as her primary mentor. That is probably why she is exactly like him lmao. She is a very stubborn kid and they butt heads about as much as you’d expect, but it’s all out of love. I love girldad Kyoya i think he would be very silly as a parent. He’s raising her to be a very tough kid, and I think as a father, he’s very caring in his own way, though he is a bit hard on her as a trainer, though he insists it is for her own good, and I do think he’d be careful not to push her too far. He’s the type to be hard on her because he can see her potential, and he knows she’ll eventually grow to surpass him as a blader one day. This is not without its faults, but I don’t think anyone expected Kyoya to be a perfect parent, and as with any parent, he’d grow and learn how to be better with time yk.

As for them and the kyohyotsu family dynamic, I do have some thoughts. I like the idea of koma village being a little more populated by the time these guys are adults, so I do think that Hyoma, now not being the sole guardian of koma (maybe he can even have his own kid or successor that he’s teaching specifically to eventually be the next official guardian) would have more time to travel outside of the village, so I could see a lot more domestic kyohyotsu interactions. I do still think he’d travel a lot anyways though. With that, plus kyoya and Tsubasa both being very busy people as the head of TC and the director of the WBBA respectively, I kinda imagine that they kinda take turns being the main character for the kid. Joint custody schedule except the parents are still married, just very all over the place lol. I can imagine her learning a lot about the wilderness and traveling from Hyoma, and he probably teaches her a whole lot about koma village and all their legends too. I also just did a google search and apparently bald eagles can live to be around 20-30 years old, so hypothetically Tsubasa may be able to introduce this kid to his now senior eagle. I think he’d probably teach her a lot about animals anyways. I think they’re all probably at their most domestic once the family’s all together and they take the time to just hang out and really appreciate each other’s presence. Hyoma I can see generally being the fun dad, Tsubasa being the most responsible, and Kyoya being the one that the other three (lovingly) gang up on frequently <3 I think also just like, even outside of just the Kyoya polycule, all of their friends absolutely would be the best people for this kid to grow up around and would step in to help out with her whenever needed. She is a mini-Kyoya with the biggest support system imaginable and it would definitely help her grow up to be a very functional person. And like, realistically with how beyblade usually tends to go anyways, being a blader, she’s probably gonna be out on her own adventuring a lot and will be pretty self sufficient, but her parents being many and spread out just means she’s got all the more places to come back to to call home.

[smilesrobotlover]

Could I ask about Ammon and Orman :)? Nothing in particular I’ve just been very interested in both of these characters since you’ve created them and I’d like to learn more about them! So if you want to share anything about them, please do! I’d love to read about it

( also would it be possible for you to link your fic you wrote about them for whumptober or febwhump? Sorry if that’s rude)

Well yes you certainly can!!

So they’re in my au king of the Gerudo which I assume you already knew that XD Ammon is also in my crossover au called strangers across eras which is all the Links dads/father figures/ friends/ relatives going on an adventure lol.

So they’re both Rhoam’s bodyguards. Ammon is from castle town but is staying in Hateno with his wife while Orman is from Lurelin. Ammon has two kids: Link and his daughter Aryn. Orman has four daughters. A daughter that’s slightly older than Link and is a captain, younger twins that may be around ten or twelve, and maybe a toddler. :) he’s a girl dad through and through.

Oh man so where do I begin? I guess I’ll start with Orman cuz I’m not sure if I talked about him much. Lurelin is very much on the edge of Hyrule and it’s sometimes neglected as a result. Many monsters attacked the village and stole all their fish and the villagers are powerless to stop it. So many of them took up their fishing spears and fought back, Orman being one of them. He became an incredible fighter because of it and he took Lurelin’s safety very seriously. He eventually got into the Hylian guard which is a HUGE deal for him being from Lurelin, cuz that village is more full of fishermen rather than fighters. Safe to say many people underestimated him. Orman and Ammon ended up defending an important outpost, idk what it is, maybe fort Hateno, and so they sorta became famous and were chosen to become bodyguards to the new king. Orman is best at spear fighting and is a phenomenal thrower. He sucks at climbing tho. He got married to his wife before defending fort Hateno and he’s overall a very kind person. He’s a peacekeeper, always good at deescalating tense situations. I love him so much.

He really loves being a bodyguard so close to Rhoam, mostly because he’s hanging out with Ammon, but also because he’s able to be a voice for Lurelin!

Ammon is slightly more jaded than Orman. He grew up in castle town and had a lot of pressure from his father to become a knight. He had an older brother Georgie who also wasn’t becoming a knight, but Georgie was kind, selfless, and caring to everyone he met. While Ammon as a teenager was mischievous and a pain to deal with. Even tho Georgie wasn’t being a knight, his father was proud of him since he was basically a saint. Kinda like Mipha, but his father was noticeably ashamed of Ammon. But while picking apples for a shop, Ammon and Georgie were kidnapped and held hostage by yiga for weeks, and in the end Georgie was killed. That was really hard on Ammon and his relationship with his father basically tanked cuz someone accidentally let slip that he wished Ammon died and not Georgie 😬Eventually Ammon joined the guard because he wanted to help people and to keep something like Georgie from happening again. He didn’t do it because his father wanted to, but his father really makes it seem like he did. Anyways Ammon did the whole thing with fort Hateno, met Orman, and was chosen to become a knight and a body guard. Now Ammon doesn’t actually like being a body guard. He loves Orman and he cares about Rhoam, but as a bodyguard he isn’t able to go out there and help people, and it’s very frustrating to him. But his father’s pressure and influence may have swayed him into accepting the responsibility. He’s a cautious, strategic, and serious man who is very anxious over his loved one’s well being. Though he didn’t want to pressure Link into trying to become a knight, his son looked up to him so he is simply proud of him. Ammon and his wife are fun cuz Ammon has very stereotypical mom traits and his wife Sarah have stereotypical dad traits. She’s reckless, impulsive, and also calm (not a dad trait, just a trait she has). She’s a blacksmith in Hateno thanks to her father teaching her so she’s also quite tough. Link looks like his father, but he acts more like his mother.

Another thing about Ammon is that he loves shield surfing. Absolutely loves it. Tho he is cautious that is one thing he goes crazy on. It makes him feel alive. But he sucks at swimming. Orman makes fun of him for it. Also he lost his arm in the calamity by guardians :) he’s Purah and Robbie’s Guinea pig.

I have written whumptober fics for them!

Here is about Ammon’s prosthetic being glitched out and shocking him

And here is about Ammon’s brother dying. Rip. (There’s two parts- 1 and 2!)

[roydeezed]

Dungeon Meshi Thoughts 05

I think this will be the last of these Dungeon Meshi posts before I catch up because I’m finding it very hard to put down. Judging by the names of the next few chapters I’m on the edge of the fight with Thistle The Mad Sorcerer so I thought I’d stop off here and leave my thoughts before continuing. So this post is going to cover chapters 51-67. My spoiler filled thoughts down below past the “Keep reading”.

Last we left off, our intrepid heroes had just learnt of Senshi’s backstory and helped him overcome a great trauma in his life, the belief that he might have eaten his comrades in order to survive. Now, having been changed into different races because of the changeling mushrooms, the group talks about the differences in the ages of the races, which in hindsight after learning of Marcille’s desire, makes me realize how important this conversation was. It also makes me wonder how old Marcille really is. The story at multiple times obfuscated attempts at learning about her age. Has she somehow already learnt the way to increase her own lifespan as her worries about people dying on her due to age seem a little too real to be just worries for the future. And her traveling around picking up random bits of knowledge while also landing on forbidden magic screams someone who’s lived so long all they  can do now is gather knowledge. Marcille’s backstory, for being supposedly so old, is still so vague.

Getting back to the story, the main draw of the cooking in a fantasy setting has been the fact that they get to try all these sorts of wild creatures that would never exist in our world. But leveling that up and creating a whole new method of cooking, through changing things with the changeling mushrooms is such a great evolution of the lore of this world and classic fantasy staples. 

We also learn quite a bit about Laois and Falin’s backstory over the course of these chapters. The key motivation of Laios leaving his hometown was that he was sick of the people there, namely his parents with how much he didn’t want to look like his dad. His main regret was leaving Falin, which is why he’s trying so hard to get her back. His motivation, of wanting a world of harmony speaks to more of a desire of adventurers, to see a world that they haven’t seen before through Laios’s kindhearted view.

It’s a much vaguer wish, with an emphasis on discovery than someone like Marcilles wish, which, while grand, is very concrete. Maybe that’s why the Lion chose him, as such a vague wish is easy to manipulate. One other thing that stood out to me was that both Laios and Falin were engaged before it fell through. In between the cracks of what we know they have a whole set of lives and personalities. I want to know what Laios in love looks like so bad. The little scene of little Falin eating alone is so precious and heartbreaking. I just want the best for these siblings. 

Sharing food as a form of love, for both of the siblings, shows how much they both care about the party. Two small moments that followed this revelation that I loved were Marcille crying because she realized how much Falin loved her and Izutsumi acting literally like a cat as she comforted Marcille.

Izutsumi should be the blueprint for all catgirls going forward, the authour really hit a homerun when they made her.

The group also comes to the conclusion that they can eat her to fix her, calling upon the help of all their allies so far. With where I’m at now, with the characters as divided as they are and the Lion manipulating Laios, I can only say this was an overly hopeful dream. 

We then go over to what I now consider to be the manga’s secondary protagonist, Kabru. Who once again, I dearly love. I love all of the characters but Kabru is just great in so many ways. And we see his determination in not letting a repeat of Utaya, his hometown, happen again. We see how the dungeon has corrupted others and in an effort to drive out campers and get Thistle to come to them, the canaries incite desire in people by flashing money. Originally they seemed outright evil, but I should’ve known better as it’s never that straightforward with Dungeon Meshi. The Canaries are either royals or criminals who’ve meddled with dark magic, signified by clipped ears. This makes me wonder if Marcille has any relation with the Canaries because is she somehow authorized to learn forbidden magic? The Canaries seem like a lifetime membership though. 

Misurn and Kabru manage to get one over on Thistle and just as Misurn is about to end Thistle, Kabru realizes that he needs answers. A bad faith take of this situation, upon learning of the demons and the dungeon mechanics, as well as Kabru’s later desire to stop Laios, would be to say this was just extending the story through a plot convenience. And it really very easily could have been. But this goes back to the systemic issue of the older races, dwarves and elves, not trusting the younger races. Seeing them as naive and impulsive. Kabru forcing this information out is one of the reasons I love him so much. 

While I think some naivety is needed, Kabru looks forward to a world like the one Laios and Marcille look forward to but in a much more realistic sense. He understands the first thing that needs to happen, even before a magical resetting of the race’s ages, is that they need to trust each other. And that’s something we see happen on a smaller scale with our party.

Next, we learn Chilchuck’s backstory. He turns out to be a father and a husband, and through Marcilles incredibly empathetic prediction, we learn most of how the separation with his wife went.  After Senshi, Chilchuck comes in as the second most known about party member, though we still don’t know why or how he got into adventuring. While filling out the role of the rogue in the party, he is also the most wholesome, having raised his daughters and loved his wife.

Next we learn about Marcille’s backstory. And even though we learn quite a lot about her, by the simple virtue of being an elf, there’s still a whole lot more we don’t know about her. This also drives home Marcille’s desire to eliminate the differences between races. With Chilchuck and Senshi, them belonging to a younger race and being younger respectively, we’re able to learn their backstories quite fast. Marcille, being an elf, has that much more of a distance between her and her companions as she has so much more ground to cover on formative memories and motivations. Also on a personal note, finding out that Marcille got into dungeon crawling because she’s basically that world’s equivalent of a flatliner is the dorkiest, stupidest, and funniest thing about her. She’s such a loser(affectionate), I love her so much. Her being into a dorky prince like person as her one true love comes second to that. But going back to it, Marcille is so intrinsically tied to the siblings that it’s just as much her story as it is theirs. 

The next little bit has a few fun moments I want to mention. One is that the Dullhan looks like such a cool monster that I hope we see it again. Another is that I love how the story of the succubui helps Izutsumi come to terms with her animal nature so organically. It’s such a brilliant use of monsters to help realize the protagonists character arcs, you know I’m writing this down for future TTRPG use. Also Chilchuck’s wife is blonde, that’s so wholesome, he’s such a good husband. Them losing to the succubi because of Marcille’s lame taste is also so on brand. Though I would’ve thought Marcille would’ve seen Falin with how much they seem to care for her. I thought the story was alluding to a romantic relationship between the two of them but I guess I’m wrong as it sets it up that Laios sees Marcille as his type. Also Izutsumi is god tier ace rep. 

We then meet the lion, who looks adorable by the way, and we learn that it wants to help Laios become the new lord of the dungeon and that Thistle is keeping it trapped. From what we learn later, it looks like Thistle was able to keep the dungeon safe for so long because he locked up the lion, preventing it from feeding on his desire more. The lion also probably manipulated the people of the kingdom to make them aid Laios in such a specific way. As we later learn from Kabru's perspective, Demons are beings from a dimension of infinite energy that grow strong by feeding on people's desires. 

Here's where I think Dungeon Meshi delivers another masterstroke of storytelling. All throughout so far, we've been very clearly watching the world through our characters' eyes, learning what they want to learn about, being curious about what they want to be curious about, and more specifically learning about the characters themselves from little moments of dialogue to big chunks of backstory. And this has gotten us invested in the characters without much thought to the world. But now the world is developed in such a major way through the Canaries and The Demons and especially our characters' relationships with these two, specifically the Demons, that we can't help but care about the world as well. The main crux of the demon's powers being gained through desire lets the story function through the wants and needs of our main characters, making us, the audience, at the very least, understand, if not root for their desires. Desires that could very well destroy their world. It puts us at odds with the story as much as our characters are. It's genius.

Going back to the story once again, we follow Kabru as they tail Laios along his journey and we once again see that Kabru makes a quick and impulsive decision to follow Laios so he can speak with him one more time. Kabru is always quick to come to conclusions; we saw as much from his first interaction with Laios, where he chooses not to blame him for his party's death and gets a read on him instantly. It's one of his greatest strengths, but also could become one of his greatest weaknesses. Thankfully, up until now, it's worked out, but going forward, it could very well backfire as Kabru doesn't second guess himself enough to fully consider his assumptions.

Finally, on to the last stretch of events before I put it down to write this, our heroes come across Thistles cabin and partially free the winged lion after eating some phoenix.

The birth of the lion from the book as well as the whole sequence with Misurn and the goat are incredibly horrific.

As a horror fan, my love for this manga increased tenfold with the recent developments. The lion also looks like a biblical angel after it’s birth.

The imagery is absolutely breathtaking here.

Also I really like Misurn as both a character and a plot device. He’s so single minded about revenge but he also has a lot of personality even if that comes from having his desires taken away.

I also love how Kabru as a human matches wits with these supposed mature races. He meets them equally and I couldn’t be prouder of my boy. 

Our heroes also attempt to kill some rabbits for Falin and things go horribly wrong with Marcille being the only one left to fend for herself in one of the funniest moments in the series where she has a ghoulish dance troupe with dead rabbits and her fellow party members.

Speaking of the rabbits, if anyones watched Re:Zero they reminded me a lot of the snow rabbits but like a 100% more messed up.

But here we get another moment that makes me wonder what Marcille has actually gone through.

She talks about how it would make her feel if everyone died like she has some experience.

I’m still mad that the story skipped over her age. Is she like a thousand years old or something? What’s your deal girl? How’d you get so adorkable? But really. Marscille’s actions make me feel like she’s not that old but hints to her backstory suggest she is. It’s so weird. Going into this next part, Kabru is still my favourite but with how much of a loser she is Marcille is a really close second. And the fact that she’s such a capable wizard makes it a hundred times funnier. We love emotionally unstable dorks here. 

Also, I absolutely love the crying faces in Dungeon Meshi, they pack so much gentle emotion into them.

Anyways, they feed Falin and take her out before getting ready to fight Thistle. That’s where I stopped reading and right after posting this I am going to go back, I’ve been away from this for way too many days. With Kabru also converging on this point I don’t think this fight will turn out like a typical fight. There are way too many factors involved to accurately predict anything. Though it would be wild if Laios becomes the lord of the dungeon. Knowing how subversive and nuanced this story gets I wouldn’t put it past it. Our heroes have suffered so much, I just want a win for them at this point. With being on what I feel like is the precipice of a major plot point, I can’t really speculate much or analyze much as it all feels like it leads to the immediate next part. Like all the build up has been for a very specific set of circumstances that I probably won’t be able to predict. See ya next time when I've caught up! Unless something happens where I need to stop and gather thoughts.

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[blorbologist]

Just barfing out my personal de Rolo quarter elf headcanons somewhere so I can keep em together and share them! Given I know mine are often a bit weird compared to everyone else’s.

90% of my thoughts have been about Vesper and Leona, due to writing fics heavily involving them, so they take up the bulk of this ahaha oops

EVERY one of these kids is queer, I don’t make the rules, it’s the law of the land.

My personal take on their ages is that Vesper’s the (accidental, oops) firstborn, the twins followed 4-5 years later, Dan a year or two after them (probably a bit of a honeymoon phase after the twins finally started sleeping through the fuckin night), and Gwen 4-6 years later. Vesper is the only one to really get a fair amount of adventuring done, so I could see her being Level 6-12 by the time she’s done while the rest of the brood end up around levels 3-5 depending on their niche and interests.

Vesper:

I am of the opinion Vesper is an Aasimar, because if my timeline knowledge is correct Vex was pregnant with her when she became Pelor's Champion (and if not, I think that's still enough to bless your bloodline enough for an Aasimar, cmon), and I highly doubt she experienced the sort of stress that made her dad go white by twenty in that Tal'dorei Reborn portrait. Plus, having an Aasimar eldest and Tiefling youngest is nice poetic symmetry <3

I decided to make her a Paladin of Erathis for a number of reasons. One, I loath seeing firstborn kids being perfect mixes of their parents' skills and specialties, and I feel the firstborn of two heros and leaders of a city would absolutely want to avoid being compared to her parents whenever possible. So instead of a DEX build like her parents, aunt and uncle, she's a front line STR heavy hitter. I settled on Paladin specifically to nod to Vax and to give her another way to separate herself from her lineage - because sure, her mom is Pelor's champion, and Pelor definitely blessed her, but that doesn't mean she has to be his paladin, too, so she turns towards Erathis instead. I also think she'd be Oath of Redemption, just because that subclass + the Lawbearer's whole thing both would help shape someone into a good leader, once she takes Cass' place at the head of the Chamber. 

Vesper’s very much an ‘everyone can be redeemed‘ person, as a logical extreme of hearing her dad’s story, and is fairly prone to black and white thinking with shades of grey frustrating her. She's also terrible with money, because please she's a noble kid of course she is, and it's incredibly funny to me that she and Vex would butt heads over this. However, they both fly together for short bursts (usually with a couple of the smaller kids with them, once Vesper’s big and confident enough to carry one with her), Vex on her broom and Vesper with her wings. She was initially very afraid of heights until Vex helped her out with that. 

She spends a few years in her early twenties adventuring, to learn how to handle herself and grow as a person. She comes out of this with a more nuanced understanding of life, and maybe she’s had to make a few hard choices of her own while out on the road she talks to her parents about. Vesper is also very close to Cass, though her efforts to distinguish herself from her parents, plus them both recovering from the trauma they’d recently endured when she was young, mean they’re not as close to her as the other kids. Vesper’s actually fairly close to Grog and Pike - Grog is a great sparring partner and helps her break down complex problems, while Pike’s ALSO fun to spar with while also being a religious mentor of sorts, alongside Yennen while he’s still alive.

A note on the twins, first: 

Leona, ‘Lonny’:

I HC that these are genuine identical twins, not fraternal twins as Vex and Vax or Whitney and Oliver likely were IF they’re cis (I’m very fond of trans Vax HCs but I digress). As a result, either Leona or Wolfe is trans. I haven’t decided which, but one is. Given they are identical and were almost indistinguishable as babies, in the chaos of the birth (kindergartener Vesper's wings poofed out the first time at this point because it was so Exciting) Vex is pretty sure they got mixed up once or twice and no one’s sure which one is the actual firstborn. Not that it matters, it’s just something she occasionally remembers that sends her into a fit of giggles.

No one is sure which of the twins is technically older, however Leona maintains that she’s the older twin so we’ll go with that. Leona’s being a little imp in the one art we have of her, and given the personality I have in mind for her I see her as being a Bard. It drives Percy completely fucking batty at times, but she spends a fair amount of time with Scanlan and Kaylie one Vox Machina dinner and that’s that. She is mostly an orator and singer, but can often be found playing a small harp (Laura Bailey, *harp music*) and looking deceptively innocent and charming before she pranks her siblings or some poor visiting noble. However, her real passion is stories and secret lore - she spends much of her time in the library looking for juicy details from history she can spin into song. I haven’t narrowed down College of Whispers or College of Eloquence for her, either could work imo! She would love Hamilton and Six the Musical, make of that what you will lmao

Leona is a complete and utter little shit. Her reaction to having important parents is to use that as an excuse to get away with all sorts of hooligan shit, because really what could they do? Her teenage years are directly responsible for Vex’s grey hairs, and she’s only interested in her dad’s tinkering so far as it can make fun toys to play with. Leona is at her least irritating when reading and looking for knowledge, though, so she and dad will spend long hour in the library chipping away at some question or another or bickering about which historical account is more accurate. Vex loves listening to her sing and absolutely eggs on half the trouble she gets into, and privately congratulates her on a well made prank once any offended parties aren’t looking and once her heartrate slows down. She’s a very weird balance of cute nerd and little shit, and smart enough to lean heavily into the former to cloak her intentions. Think how Vex would use her flirting and winks to get what she wanted, but less discrimination trauma and more Bard and Being a Lil Bastard Sometimes.

 She eventually has a bit of a crisis, realizing that because of her family she can get away with most anything and not let her grow for her own merits, on top of always being seen as part of a set with her twin. As a result, when Percy takes her on a diplomatic/Ugh Fine We shall visit Scanlan trip to Westrunn, she kinda. maybe. Runs off to join the Cobalt Soul. I’m writing that fic rn hands off :vv But long and short of it is she finds her calling with the Soul, caring for and finding knowledge and then sharing it in ways that actually stick in peoples’ heads. Maybe a bit of spying and information gathering of her own if she’s a Whispers Bard instead of Eloquence so she can put her nosy nature to good use. She takes a particular delight in either exaggerating or correcting tales of Vox Machina and no one can ever tell which she’ll go with in a given moment.

Wolfe:

Wolfe does not insist he is the older of the twins - however, he is the more mature, level-headed and not humble at all of the pair, so he absolutely implies Leona is lying about it. I haven’t actually decided on Wolfe’s class or subclass yet. I like the idea of him not having a lick of magic to him, unlike his Bard twin. However, I am dead set on Galdric (you know -  Purvan Suul’s ever-living wolf companion who now guards Whitestone and per the Tal’Dorei update can be a Warlock patron) having taken an interest in him. SO! I could see him as an Undying Warlock (because oh, man, the ties to Vax would have Vex so emotional), or a Gloomstalker Ranger hunting side by side with his mother and this huge fuckall magic wolf in turns, or a Cavalier fighter riding either a horse or Galdric into battle. 

Wolfe is very similar to a young, pre-trauma Percy, but with something similar to Vax’s bleeding heart worn on his sleeve. He’s a bit arrogant and uppity, but it all comes from a good place of trying to make his parents proud and being proud of his family in turn. His way of forming an identity of his own is really to live up to the peoples’ expectations of what he should be, and as the son of heroes, so he puts himself under a lot of pressure to be perfect (unlike his twin who deliberately fucks around). Vex and Percy reassure him as best they can that he doesn’t have to be anything, but they do appreciate that at least one kid isn’t causing havoc of somesort at a given time. He’s very much a ‘break a few eggs to make an omelet’ kind of guy, but he will cry about it after. Hunting in the forest with mom - using a rifle, not a bow - helps him get a better handle on his emotions. He likes shedding the expectations of court out in the woods, where it’s just him, nature, maybe one of his parents too. And Galdric, whose expectations are unknown to him. He’s very much in awe of most of Vox Machina and not close to them as a result, because he’s fairly intimidated. He IS the darling of Whitestone’s populace, though, and great at getting along with the everyman once he gets over his ego and lets his heart shine through.

Wolfe and Leona are not nearly as close as Vex and Vax, because that was 90% codependency as a result of the hell they went through and these two both have other siblings to rely on and don’t need an ‘us vs the world’ mentality to survive. They’re close by virtue of being the same age, but Dan is not much younger than them and both are closer to him than eachother. Which is kinda necessary - Dan keeps their contrasting personalities from blowing up into full blown arguments. Vex has next to No idea how to handle this, however Percy remembers Whitney and Oliver and is better equipped to help the twins sort out their differences. Tho one time a guy courting Wolfe ends up only being in it for the prestige and Leona makes his life a living hell, and Wolfe helps cover for Leona when she’s skipping lessons to read in some secret corner.  

He might very well keep Galdric’s patronage or protection or Whatever It Is a secret from his parents as long as he can, because he knows how it’d worry and upset them, so there might be some drama about that idk. Cass might help him keep the secret while he figures out how to tell his parents and what to do, to give the poor kid some breathing room. Galdric doesn’t see what the problem is. He might have a few brief interactions with Vax as a result of his ties to the Raven Queen through Galdric, but given he’s not directly working with RQ herself there is a measure of distance that’s enough to keep Vex and Percy from completely freaking out.

Vax’ildan, ‘Dan’:

He also goes by Freddie given he got that middle name from his dad. Dan’s the absolute softest of the family - Vex has taken each kid out hunting regularly enough as mother-child bonding time, except the first time she and Dan went out he broke down crying at the thought of killing anything so they just take walks together. He’s a Druid - not a high level one by any means. Circle of the Shepherd or Land maybe?

I like the idea of him feeling very much like the odd one out of his family - both named for his uncle (Vesper’s namesake wasn’t a world-saving hero, she was a *teenager*) and not outwardly seeming to have the traits his parents are well known for. He can’t shoot a bow, can’t handle a gun, can’t tinker, can’t do Pelor things, he’s just the kid that really loves plants. (Am I projecting a hell of a lot of autism on this kid? Yes. I Am. You can’t stop me.) However, Percy and Vex and the rest of his siblings are eager to learn with him - Percy takes up gardening more, mostly on the technical side of the science behind it, to spend time with his son, while Vex takes him on walks in the woods and they go foraging for mushrooms and fun treasures together. She makes little stick dollies and forest toys with him, like her mother used to do for her and Vax. It might be on one of these outings they find Charlie, maybe?

He spends a lot of time with Keyleth in Zephrah, or in the Patchwood or castle garden when at home, and once he’s older he might move to Zephrah completely. Dan picks up a lot of Kiki’s verbal ticks from being around her so much. He might have even been there for Kiki’s assasination attempt, if the angst is worth it >;3c 

IDK I don’t have as many ideas for Dan as the others :c beyond him being close to Kiki but not at all like Vax ;; He’s also close to Trinket’s cub Charlie, though given how bear reproduction and aging works that portrait would have needed to be completed in the early summer and Charlie would be absolutely huge come the next year. I gotta think on this kid more.

Gwendolyne:

(oh no im getting tired now gktjrngn fuck.)

Is the sweetest de Rolo and has inherited Velora’s Owlbear stuffie, given to her one time when the family Had to go to Syngorn for some contrived reason, and some elves raised a stink about this little toddler. Which was not wise; Vex blew her gasket in a big way, Percy took the liberty of voiding some important trade agreements (Cass handled the paperwork when they got home), Syldor tried to salvage the whole thing while defending his grandchild, and while they did that Velora cradled her newest niece in a back room and calmed her down with the old beloved teddy. 

I see Gwennie as 100% being a daddy’s girl. Poor Percy - none of his kids really Got tinkering until the last one. Sure they could help in the workshop and loved to watch him make things, or try to make things of their own, but none really got the itch for it until he found Gwen trying to sneak down to make something for her stuffie at 10pm. I see her as an Artificer (Artillerist or Battle Smith)! Unlike her father’s love of clockwork and pretty creations, now, Gwen is 100% all about shit that goes boom, which is super funny given how sweet she is. Vex gets so many more exploding arrows once Gwen starts helping her dad. However, there is a minor point of conflict in that she likes the guns, the bombs, the explosions,and thinks they’re cool, and cannot for the life of her grasp why her father is so upset about having invented such cool things. She really likes Tary too.

Though I don’t think she would be an adventurer, I like the idea of Gwennie leaving home to sell some of her inventions and creations. Say, stopping by one of Gilmores’ storefronts and spending a few days doing some demonstrations and sales there, just seeing the cities the world has to offer but without any monster fighting - she’d rather sell the monster killing shit than engage herself. Inevitably something of hers does get used for nefarious purposes, though, and she understands her dad a bit better after this.

I also really, really want to incorporate Tiefling virtue names into Gwennie’s life, and while away from home I can see her going by Darling. Because it’s something she associates with her mother, with love, and she’s so much of a daddy’s girl that it’s nice for her to have something of her mom’s. IDK if anyone in Whitestone castle knows that this mildly famous merchant of insane tinkering feats that goes by Darling is their Gwennie, and IDK if she’s actually deliberately hiding this or hasn’t bothered to explain. She gets her incredible salesman skills from mom ofc.

All her family learn Infernal, because sometimes when she’s stressed she’ll lapse into it, and it becomes the official language of gossip for the de Rolo family whenever they’re at some important event and have some tea to spill in polite company. 

holy fuck that was more than I expected lmao. Enjoy? or not? weee

[griffintail]

A Day in the Life (Lost Ones)

Summary: A day with the new parents and how some of their friends reaction to their new bit of joy. 

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

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Warnings : (In Phil’s Specifically) Death, Violence. (Generally) Swearing

A/N: Just so you know (F/L) means First Letter of your first name. Hope you guys enjoy! ♥

Tommy

        Tommy didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

        Tubbo was even more clueless.

        When Tommy first came onto Tubbo’s doorstep frantically talking about being a father with a crying baby, Tubbo was in a state of great concern for his best friend. Tubbo knew Tommy as a scammer and a very…bold individual, to put it nicely. He did not think his friend had what it took to be any sort of fatherly figure. He was just too young and he was too…outgoing.

        The first day, the pair worked hard to figure out how to make the infant stop crying. They found out she just needed food and a diaper change. Tommy had groaned in relief, sitting on Tubbo’s floor as he held the baby feeding her the milk. From there, Tubbo questioned where he even found a child.

        “She was abandoned in a basket, in a tree. I decided to be a big man about it and take her in.”

        “Are you crazy? Tommy, you didn’t even know her gender until two minutes ago.”

        “Shut up.” Tommy huffed looking at his friend as he stopped giving (Y/N) milk for the moment. “I can figure it out, I’m still new to this Tubbo.”

        “I think maybe we should give her to one of the other guys. We don’t know what to do, we just ran around my house for five minutes trying to make her stop crying for god’s sake.”

        “I’ll figure it out! Even without your help.” Tommy looked back down at the infant, continuing to feed her.

        So, Tubbo went along with it. Tommy was stubborn and to make sure the baby didn’t get hurt, Tubbo said he’d help his friend. To be fair, they didn’t have to do much, it was just a lot of work to do the few things and barely any time to do the same adventures they use to do.

        Tommy was determined to do most of it on his own, only going to Tubbo when he was desperate for help. Which were a few times a week. He got better and better though, learning what (Y/N) needed and when.

        Tommy had managed to make a crib all on his own (with a couple of tries) and he discovered, (Y/N) liked her crib at the end of his bed. She just liked being close to Tommy often and he actually didn’t mind. He was proud to show off his baby.

        When he had shown her off to the others, they had all been in various bits of shock. Of course, when he first introduced her, the first thing he shouted was always;

        “I’m a father now bitch! Meet (Y/N)!”

        As he would, (Y/N) would giggle and babble, his excited energy rubbing off on her. After their various bits of shock (and Bad telling him to watch his language even more now that there was a baby), they would indeed think (Y/N) was cute but give him the same advice as Tubbo. Give her to an adult.

        “None of them! None of them think I can take care of you.” Tommy huffed as (Y/N) finished her milk for the hour. “Isn’t that ridiculous?”

        Tommy did struggle often. He didn’t get as much sleep as he once did, he stayed inside with (Y/N) more. It was a big change, but he was taking it seriously despite all his jokes. Just, no one could see it because they only saw Tommy as a child.

        “Well, they’re all idiots. I know I have this.” Tommy told the infant as he sat back in bed, holding her. “Right Little (F/L)?”

        (Y/N) squirmed slightly, babbling and Tommy smiled.

        “Right! It’s that time.” He grinned as he stood up, going into his chests next to his jukebox.

        As he pulled out one of his discs, Tubbo knocked on the door as he came in.

        “Hey, am I interrupting?” He asked.

        “No, you’re actually in time Big T!” Tommy said as he put the red labeled disc on.

        “For what?” Tubbo questioned confused as Tommy sat down.

        The music started to play and (Y/N) relaxed in Tommy’s arms. Tommy smiled softly, gently rocking her in his arms as he hummed along to the music. Tubbo was staring in amazement from behind Tommy’s seat.

        “Do you…do you do this often?”

        “Of course.” Tommy grinned at his best friend. “She’s got to learn great music. And look, she loves it so much she falls asleep.”

        He was correct as when Tubbo looked, (Y/N) was giving a tiny yawn as she nuzzled into Tommy.

        “Every day after lunch, I play the disc I got when I found her and she takes a nap.” Tommy quieted down; startling Tubbo as Tommy never quieted down. “I want to find more to let her hear more.”

        Tommy put her down in her crib once she was fully asleep, motioning to the door. They both left as the music kept playing.

        “We should go get more discs tomorrow.” Tommy declared, keeping his voice level as he went through his chests. “(Y/N) needs to hear them all and I want to have them all.”

        “You…do that every day?” Tubbo said, still caught up on Tommy’s gentleness.

        Tommy rolled his eyes. “Of course, I do. (Y/N) likes it and I like it so that’s our routine Tubbo. Sometimes it takes a while though and I have to move around the room.”

        He didn’t mention that he danced to the music with her though, laughing with her as she would giggle, slightly embarrassed about the cute routine.

        “So, are we going to go out tomorrow and get some discs or not?” Tommy grinned at his friend.

        Tubbo stood there, thinking over what he had just seen. He thought about how he was actually wrong about Tommy. His best friend really cared about the girl; his own little girl. Tommy had acted drastically different than what he usually did to make sure she was well and happy. The taller boy was actually taking this very seriously and Tubbo couldn’t help but be proud of his friend.

        “Tubbo.” Tommy snapped his fingers, looking at him disapprovingly.

        “Oh, yeah. Let’s get some discs tomorrow. It’s been forever since we’ve gone on an adventure.” Tubbo smiled.

        He thought Tommy could do this whole dad thing right.

        …

        Then he slightly regretted his words in the morning when Tommy showed up with the little girl and his adventuring gear.

        “We are not taking (Y/N). It’s dangerous Tommy!” Tubbo protested.

        “Nothing will happen to her; I wouldn’t let it. Neither would you. And try and say no to this face.” Tommy showed her off, grinning. “Come on now Uncle Tubbo.”

        Tubbo paused, getting slightly giddy. “Uncle Tubbo?”

        “Of course! Now! Let’s go get some discs!” Tommy took lead.

        “…Wait! You distracted me!” Tubbo called exasperated as he followed his best friend.

        (Y/N) giggled as Tommy grinned wider. Tommy was stubborn but in the case of being a father, it was a good thing as it meant his baby would grow up healthy and happy and he could care less about what others would say.

          Wilbur

        L’Manberg didn’t have many secrets but it had one well-guarded one. That would be the simple fact that (Y/N) existed.

        After the first night with the new baby, Wilbur had gathered all the men inside the van.

        “Time to greet the people little one.” He smiled as he heard the commotion of Tommy trying to command the others.

        Coming out, he put on a serious face as everyone went quiet. Of course, Eret and Fundy already knew. The teenager had his arms crossed, looking away from his father and new sister, as Eret gave a small smile. The other two of L’Manberg…

        “Did you fuck another fish?!” Tommy shouted in exasperation to his brother.

        Fundy gave Tommy an offended glare as (Y/N) squirmed at the sudden loud noise.

        “Tommy, quiet down now,” Wilbur told him as he gently rocked the little girl, Tubbo awing at how adorable she was. “Eret found her left outside the walls last night. I’m taking her in as she was obviously abandoned. So, meet the first woman of L’Manberg, (Y/N).”

        “(Y/N) is a wonderful name.” Eret smiled a bit wider.

        “She’s so cute and small,” Tubbo said, taking a step closer to get a better look at her.

        Tommy huffed, already bored as Fundy simply stayed quiet.

        “That being said, we are in the middle of a war.”

        The weight of everything came back to rest on their shoulders as everyone with a smile stopped holding one. It was a dangerous time for all of them, no one able to leave the walls without a friend. Walls that were supposed to mean their freedom.

        “That’s why no one must know (Y/N) exists. She must be a secret from all of the Dream SMP. They’ve shown how ruthless they can be and I don’t want to think about what they’d do if they knew about her. So, beyond these walls, (Y/N) doesn’t exist.”

        Everyone gave a nod at the same time as (Y/N) had started to play with the ruffles on Wilbur’s uniform. He smiled gently as her as he took her hand, letting her play with his finger instead before looking dead serious at his men again.

        “I can’t have just a nod. I need you to be verbal. This will not be taken lightly.”

        Tommy spoke first as he gave a salute. “You have my word, Wilbur!”

        Wilbur cracked a small smile; he could always rely on his little brother. “Good, now quiet down a bit.”

        From there, it was a chorus of promises and she was their biggest secret that united them. Not even a traitor would dare breath word of her place in their walls.

        The men could see a difference in their leader every day since then.

        He left the van more often, actually going to his own home in the walls. Daily, everyone would see him carrying (Y/N) with him in her own little uniform he made on a walk within the walls. He sang more often like he used to before the declaration of war was made in order to soothe the little girl or simply to make her smile. There was a reason for him to relax and be soft and everyone was rather glad after all the weight he had been forced to hold.

        Wilbur also saw the change in his men as the days went on.

        Tubbo found joy with such an adorable new addition. He would sometimes join Wilbur on his daily walks within the walls to have a chance to hold the small girl. The young boy loved to also give her little gifts, usually toys he thought she’d like. He was very excited when Wilbur told him that she slept with a bee plushie he had gotten her.

        Tommy was curious about her. Such a small thing, he was certain he was way bigger than her when he was that young. Wilbur let him hold her on the occasion if Tommy asked, but wouldn’t wonder if Tommy was holding her. He had faith in his little brother, but his eccentric energy just put Wilbur a little on edge. Often, Tommy would brag to the little girl that he’d be the coolest uncle and teach her many swear words when she got older, much to Wilbur’s dismay.

        Eret did like the little girl, he really did as she was such a precious little thing, but he tried not to put too much attachment to her. He had begun…he had begun a different path and he didn’t want to also betray the little girl. And, the more separation he felt from her, the easier it was to lie about her existence. Though, there was the occasion he would do the same as Tubbo and gave her a toy or two, unable to help it as it put a smile on his face.

        Fundy was different. He had been an only child for most of his life and now he had a little sister? It was only natural that he was jealous and sulked at all the attention she got from their father. Their father did try to include Fundy though; inviting every day on their walks, offering to let her feed instead, asking to play his piano while Wilbur sang. Unfortunately, Fundy wanted nothing to do with his little sister, often saying he hated her, which repeatedly broke Wilbur’s heart but he had faith; he’d change his son’s mind.

        “I’m trying to have a peace talk with Dream today,” Wilbur told Fundy as he shrugged on his jacket while Fundy was sitting in the front seat of the van.

        “Ok, and?” Fundy looked up at him.

        “I’m taking Tubbo and Eret, Tommy’s staying guard and you.” Wilbur handed him a piece of paper. “And you are taking care of your sister.”

        “What?! What the hell?” Fundy exclaimed, jumping up.

        Wilbur put the paper in Fundy’s hand. “I have to go and try and make peace. I have faith in you son. (Y/N) would love to spend time with you anyways. Take good care of her alright? I don’t trust Tommy to watch her for so long but if you really need help, get him.”

        “What…Why do I have to watch the brat?”

        Wilbur gave him a stern look. “Fundy, she is your little sister. She is a part of our family. And family takes care of each other. Now, I want you to be nice to her and take care of her. Understood?”

        Fundy clenched his jaw, shoving his hands in pockets. “Yeah, yeah.”

        “Good.” Wilbur smiled at him now. “She’s still sleeping in my room. That paper is what she needs and when. You can do anything with her in-between. I’ll see you in a few hours my son.”

         Wilbur left; his heart heavy as this was the first time he’d leave (Y/N) alone but hope helping it float as he hoped Fundy could love his sister as Wilbur loved her.

        Fundy went into his father’s bedroom and saw the little girl already waking up slightly. He gave a heavy sigh as he picked her up carefully, holding her close.

        “I hate you.” He muttered as she looked up at him.

        The little girl giggled and he lowered his head. She gave pet to his face to feel the soft fur.

        “I hate you’re too fucking adorable to hate.” He huffed. “Just don’t tell dad. Now, come on dipshit, time to eat.”

        Fundy was jealous, yes. But he could never actually hate his adorable little sister. He’d keep her safe and make her happy too.

        Wilbur got back later than he expected as Dream and his goons had chased their peaceful band like sport but they managed out relatively unscathed. The moon was already up and Wilbur was worried as he hadn’t written instructions for this long in the night for Fundy. After Tommy reported no incidents along the walls, Wilbur rushed home but froze, his heart-melting. In the living room, there was a long finished playing record on the jukebox and on the couch, Fundy laid with his arm over (Y/N) securely as she laid on his chest, both of them asleep.

        “Thank you, my little champion,” Wilbur muttered with a smile, gently picking (Y/N) up before putting a blanket over Fundy. “I’m proud of you.”

        Wilbur held (Y/N) close to him as he walked to his bedroom.

        “And you, my little star, a day won’t go by where you won’t be loved. You’re our little star of hope in L’Manberg. You remind everyone what we fight for and you bring everyone smiles. We will bring peace, just so you can see how bright you shine my little star.” He kissed her forehead before putting her in her crib. “Sleep well love.”

          Philza

        Walking took longer than flying but it was definitely safer for his new little angel. He had tried to find her parents, asking around with the survivors but they weren’t there. So, Phil took her with him to meet his sons. When he started this journey, of the list of things he’d thought would happen, he didn’t think he’d gain a new child. Yet, there she slept peacefully in the sash Phil had made to carry her and keep her warm rather than carrying her in his arms the entire walk.

        She most certainly quieter than most of his other children had been when they were this small, which Phil did not mind one bit. When she was awake, he would talk to her to fill her world though. He’d tell her about her new brothers and how he was sure they’d all love her in their own way.

        “Techno will take a little convincing, he has a thing about orphans.” Phil scrunched up his nose. “But he’ll learn to you like you (Y/N).”

        He hadn’t been able to find a name either for the new baby so he gave her one on his own.

        Finally, after days of travel, Phil reached a crest of a hill and was able to see a beautiful town laid before him. From the looks of some decorations, they had some sort of festival recently. The worrying part was the people in armor down below, but, a large portion of them were celebrating. Phil scanned them over then he grew a large smile. Wilbur was patting Tommy’s shoulder as the younger boy was screaming with one of those celebrating, Techno to the side smirking.

        His sons had managed to figure it all out.

        “Looks like we were a little late angel. Your brothers can be smart when they choose to be.” He chuckled. “We’ll wait here and let them have their moment of victory.”

        He sat on the edge of the hill, giving (Y/N) her afternoon milk as he watched the crowd below and listened to the start of celebratory speeches. As he quickly burped the infant, he frowned as Wilbur left his seat in the crowd, walking away as Tubbo was getting on stage.

        “Let’s go see what he’s up to.” He muttered to the little girl, putting her in his sash securely before carefully flying over.

        He landed as Wilbur walked into a room in a hill behind the stage. His eyes went wide as he remembered one of Tommy’s letters.

        Will keeps saying if he can’t have L’Manberg, no one can. He made a room rigged to TNT under our nation. I’m hoping to talk him down but I don’t know if I can.

        “Shit.” Phil sprinted over, walking into the room after his son.

        Inside were mad scribblings as Wilbur stood with his hand on the wall next to a button.

        “What are you doing?” Phil asked him.

        Wilbur jumped, whirling around to see his father standing there, wearing a sash, unable to see the child it was holding.

        “Phil…?”

        “What are you doing?” Phil repeated.

        Wilbur ran his hands through his hair as he looked back at the button then his father.

        “How’d you…do you know what this is?” He motioned to the room around him.

        “I do.” Phil nodded, stepping carefully forward.

        “Have heard the songs on the walls?” Wilbur asked in turn as he ran his hand over a few of the words. “I was just saying to myself, there was a special place where men can go, but there’s not anymore! It’s not…” Wilbur sighed as he looked back at the button.

        “It is there,” Phil told him as he put a hand on the side of the child to calm her down as she squirmed. “You just, you’ve just won it back.”

        “Phil! I’m always so close to pressing this button, Phil! I’ve been—I’ve been here like seven or eight times I’ve been here.” Wilbur threw up his arms as Phil stood his ground when he saw the crazed look in his son’s eyes.

        The little girl tried to give an uncomfortable babble at the loud shouting but Wilbur talked over her, having yet to notice the extra body in the room. In comfort, Phil put a hand over one of her ears as he pressed her close to him.

        “Phil I-I’ve been here so many times.” Outside of the room, they all could hear the sound of fireworks going off. “They’re fighting. They’re fighting.”

        “And you want to just blow it all up?” Phil questioned.

        “I do I think I—”

        “You fought so hard to get this land back.” Phil tried to discourage one of his older sons. “So hard.”

        “I don’t even, I don’t even know if works anymore Phil,” Wilbur said, his hand hovering over the button, making Phil take a step forward. “I don’t even know if the button works I could, I could press it and might not…”

        Wilbur looked back, grinning like a mad man and Phil squeezed the young girl lightly.

        “Do you really want to take that risk? Wilbur…” He went to continue to say, hoping to bring up his new little sister to discourage the man but Wilbur looked away, staring at the button.

        “There was a saying Phil, by a traitor. It was never meant to be.” Wilbur pressed the button, grinning at Phil as the hiss went off.

        “No!” Phil shouted, quickly pulling his son close as he covered the three of them his wings as the blast went off.

        He winced as the blast and the heat singed and damaged his feathers but he didn’t move as he held his two children close. He wouldn’t let them get harmed.

        The sound of white noise rang in their ears as the explosions slowly stopped. Phil raised his wings slightly to look in horror at the destruction before them. Outside their half-destroyed room, Phil slowly started to hear the voices crying with terror at what they just witnessed as Wilbur stood before the hole holding his arms out as he grinned.

        “My L’Manberg Phil! My unfinished symphony forever unfinished! If I can’t have this no one can Phil!”

        “Oh my god.” Phil breathed, the ringing dying down enough for him to be startled at the cries closest to him.

        (Y/N) screamed out cries in the aftermath of the loud explosions and shouting, her own ears ringing. Phil held her close, trying to calm her down despite his horror and disappointment. Wilbur finally heard the cries himself and looked over to finally notice the little girl. For a moment, he could see through his madness.

        “Who’s…who’s this?” Wilbur muttered.

        “She’s (Y/N),” Phil told him as he put his forehead on the little girl’s. “I came to help you and found her. I brought her to show her what her new brothers made. What great work you’ve done.”

        “What great…” Wilbur looked over at what he had done.

        Behind him, he could hear the cries of his new tiny sister he hadn’t been aware he had. Phil had brought her to show her a place of peace and beauty, but instead, Wilbur showed her terror and destruction. Across the explosion, he could see Tommy’s horror-struck face at the sight of their once great nation gone. This was his fault…

        He pulled his sword, holding the handle to Will. “Kill me, Phil.”

        “What?!” Phil looked at his son shocked, still clutching onto the crying girl.

        “Stab me with the sword. Murder me now. Kill me!” Will demanded as he motioned to the crowd. “Look, they all want you to!”

        Phil was stood in shock as he held a crying child in one arm while looking over at the crowd of terrified and horror-filled faces.

        “Kill me, Phil!” Wilbur shouted.

        “I—You’re my son!” Phil yelled. “No matter what you do—I can’t—”

        “Phil!” Wilbur shouted, shoving the sword handle into his hand. “This isn’t—! Look! Look! How much work went into this and it’s gone! Do it.”

��       Phil looked from his son to the crowd, to the child in his arms. He couldn’t…why’d…(Y/N) should get a chance to meet her own brother! L’Manberg had ruined his son. He had gone mad…

        “I’m sorry.” He whispered under his breath before plunging the sword.

        Tears filled Phil’s eyes as he let go of the sword and held his son. (Y/N)’s wails only got louder and Phil cried with her.

        “I’m sorry, I’m sorry both of you.” He muttered

        He wished everything could be different…

        …

        Phil sat by the fire with the L’Manberg citizens, one of his hands shaking slightly as the other gently rocked the no longer crying child.

        Tommy had been speechless since the betrayal he received from both of his brothers, but looking up at his father across from him, he stood and spoke.

        “Who’s she?” He asked.

        Phil looked at him as the others looked over as well.

        “This is your new little sister (Y/N). I found her when the village I was staying at was raided and I saved her. Would you like to hold her?”

        Tommy came over and sat in front of his father. Phil helped him before letting his now second youngest hold her on his own. Tommy’s face had held no emotion after everything today but now it softened as the little girl met his eyes. He hugged her lightly as Phil held onto his shaking hand with his other to stop it.

        “I wish you could have seen what L’Manberg looked like (Y/N),” Tommy mumbled to her. “Wilbur and Techno betrayed me but I promise. I won’t betray you. I never will do that to you.”

        Phil looked at his son sadly as Tommy put his forehead on hers softly. At least Phil knew that she’d be well-loved by the brother she got to meet properly.

        From there, the next few days were made for rebuilding. Phil helped the group as best he could but he had to rest to let his wings heal and he also had to take care of his little angel. Tommy made sure the others built Phil one of the first houses so his sister could be in a proper bed.

        It warmed Phil’s heart that Tommy cared so much about his new little sister. Tommy would visit the pair occasionally just to see her, Phil giving him a little bit of trust to take care of her. Of course, Tommy used that trust to be his usual self and brag about how cute his little sister was to anyone that would listen to the boy’s antics. Though many couldn’t deny the boy, she was a very cute little girl and often brought smiles to other’s faces.

        Phil was glad that his quiet little girl could bring joy to people that had been through so much. He just wished that she had had a chance to bring smiles to those that didn’t walk beside them any more…

          Technoblade

        “Phil,” Techno called on his walkie, trying to quiet down the girl crying in his arms.

        “Yes?” Phil answered.

        “She won’t stop crying,” Techno told him, Phil, able to hear the girl, chuckling quietly to himself. “Don’t laugh at this!”

        “Sorry, sorry. Alright, you feed and changed her right?” The older man listed.

        “Yes.” He had done it a few minutes ago, on his usual schedule to do so.

        “Did you burp her after she ate?”

        Techno paused and huffed before burping the child, the cries dying down after she released the gas that had built up.

        “I forgot, she stopped.”

        “Good. Just relax now, alright Techno?”

        “Yeah.” Techno sighed as he put his walkie away, looking down at the little girl. “What now brat?”

        It was often that Techno called his father to ask what to do. To put it simply, he was worried he’d fuck this all up. He had never exactly taken care of a child before; it had been all anarchy and blood before he decided on retirement. Hell, he barely ever took care of Tommy when he was a child, that was usually Wilbur’s thing.

        He didn’t know the first thing he was doing nor did the voices. They always threw out different ideas contradicting each other. So, Techno always did his best and when it didn’t seem like enough, he went immediately to Phil.

        When he did have things under control though, it was just any other day. Brew some potions out of habit, take care of the animals before collecting food for himself and milk for (Y/N), and trade with some of the villagers close by. The only difference was that he brought (Y/N) with him while he did anything.

        To his relief, she was a quiet child and didn’t mind his quiet nature. She didn’t need pointless noise to be happy so he could just simply work. Techno did get Phil to make her a warmer outfit and Phil took it seriously but also made it a joke. He made her a pink outfit from wool and leather and with a bit extra, put fake pig ears on the hood of the outfit, which Techno would never admit looked adorable on her out loud.

        He most certainly didn’t put it on her even if they weren’t going out that day, why would anyone think that?

        Phil most certainly did spoil her though when he would come over. He’d always have something new for the little girl, clothes, and toys. His father also often tried to discourage Techno from using some of his nicknames for his child when the older man was over, such as brat.

        (Y/N) yawned quietly and Techno chuckled, a small smile cracking on his face.

        “Tired early huh? Yeah, ok, I can use a nap.” He nodded as he went up to his bedroom.

        He sat on his bed, leaning back on the headboard as he racked his brain for their daily ritual.

        “I got a good one today.” He laughed quietly. “Let me tell you about the story of Theseus.”

        Every nap and bedtime, there was always a story for Techno to tell. Sometimes he’d tell her about his adventures around the world, about the places he conquered. There were other days when he’d tell her about myths he had memorized. It was when he’d talk the most to the little girl and he rather enjoyed these moments in his day.

        It was their special little thing and he wouldn’t ever want to miss them.

        Close to the end of the story, he stopped as he noticed (Y/N) was asleep. He nodded as he laid back, resting her carefully on his chest.

        A crib was one thing Techno had not invested his time in. He didn’t move in his sleep and it was rare for the little girl to move in hers. So, he slept with her on his chest, giving him and the voices a better piece of mind. No one knew where he was, but he was still paranoid. This was the safest place for her.

        “Sleep well little goddess,” Techno muttered, a hand on her back.

        Despite the trials, he didn’t mind being a father.

          Eret

        Eret put a small flower crown on the infant’s head that matched the one he was wearing, smiling as she giggled, before picking her up, continuing on their daily walk through the SMP.

        It was a lot of trial and error with the pair but Eret was a quick learner and adapted to the needs of his new child. He didn’t do as much as he once did with his friends, fewer prank wars with Fundy, and less involvement with Tommy’s antics, but he didn’t mind. He spent those hours with his little princess now; taking walks with her, playing with her along the way and in the castle, and making clothes that made her the adorable princess that she.

        Of course, he did still sometimes get involved.

        “Eret!” Tommy yelled on the walkie.

        Eret chuckled as he took it from his pocket. “It seems Tommy is having troubles again princess.” She gave a babble and Eret nodded. “You’re very right. Let’s see what he needs. Yes, Tommy?”

        “I need your help at my base ASAP!” Tommy demanded.

        “It’s nothing dangerous right?” He asked.

        “Of course not, now if you could hurry.”

        He shook his head chuckling. “Alright, I’m on my way.”

        Putting the walkie away, he hugged his little girl lightly as he changed direction.

        “Sorry princess, we need to go check on Tommy. I know you won’t mind though.”

        There were other times that had happened similarly and Eret would take (Y/N) with him to meet the younger boy. The younger boy’s energy would rub off on the infant and she would get excited as well, babbling and giggling constantly. As long as nothing dangerous was going on, Eret was glad to bring (Y/N) over as it always brought a smile to his face at how adorable she’d get.

        Walking onto Tommy's property, he saw the young boy waiting impatiently outside his dirt home.

        “There you are! You brought the brat?” He huffed.

        “Come now, Tommy. (Y/N) loves being around you, at least be kind to her.” Eret smiled, knowing the boy meant no ill will.

        “Right, now!” Tommy said dramatically as he opened the door to his base. “I need to make a plan!”

        Following him in, he saw Tubbo was also there looking over a paper with Tommy’s handwriting on it. Tubbo looked up as they came in and grinned seeing the little girl in Eret’s arms.

        “You brought (Y/N)!” Tubbo exclaimed excitedly as he came over. “Can I hold her?”

        Eret laughed as he nodded, helping the other boy hold her. Tubbo enjoyed seeing the little girl, loving to play with her and spend time with her. There were times when Eret would let Tubbo babysit his princess so he could do a few more dangerous tasks.

        “You got a little crown, you’re really a princess now.” Tubbo grinned as the girl babbled at him.

        “We’re not here for (Y/N), we’re here to plan!” Tommy protested now.

        Tommy didn’t mind the small child, he just got annoyed when the focus would come off him.

        Focus went back on Tommy but Eret left after a little while to give (Y/N) her lunch for the day. She had gotten energetic after seeing the two boys, babbling and giggling as Eret played with her on the walk back. As they got back to his castle, he saw a wrapped package and note at the main door. Picking it up, he saw it was Fundy’s handwriting.

        You stand no chance, it’s for (Y/N)

        He raised an eyebrow, opening the package then laughed.

        “It seems Fundy wishes to make you love him more than me.” Eret showed her the fox plushy, making her eyes sparkle as he gave it to her. “But I know that you’ll always love me, princess.” He booped her nose, (Y/N) looking at his sunglasses, babbling. “That’s right. I think this prank was an automatic failure. I love you princess.”

          Dream

        “Come on (Y/N), you just got to hold out your hands to me,” Sapnap told the infant in the crib at the community house.

        “No, she’s going to me,” George argued.

        The little girl looked between the two as they went between bickering and encouraging her to hold her hands out to them. Then she looked directly between them and held her arms out giggling.

        “What?” George looked behind them and yelped seeing Dream.

        “What are you idiots doing?” Dream laughed as he picked up his daughter.

        “We were trying to get (Y/N) to choose her favorite uncle, but then you ruined it.” Sapnap huffed, crossing his arms.

        “Well, I am her favorite person.” Dream bragged as he pulled his mask up while looking at the little girl. “Peek-a-boo.”

        The girl gave a little squeal of laughter and Dream chuckled rubbing his nose against hers.

        “She loves both of you idiots.” Dream told them, put his mask back on. “You’re her uncles.”

        “Yeah, but I got to prove Uncle Sapnap is the best.” Sapnap pointed to himself.

        “No! I’m better than you of course.”

        The two bickered and Dream shook his head at his friends before leaving the community house.

        “Your uncles are stupid.” Dream whispered to the little girl, tickling her stomach making her giggle. “Why don’t we go look at what the new people have built today, sound good sweetheart?”

        After Dream had taken in the little girl, his life had most certainly brightened more as their world around them grew. She was a constant ball of happiness that always made Dream and his friends smile. Of course, they had to power through learning how to take care of a baby, a lot of screaming coming from all parties the first night they had the child. But they were starting to get the hang of it.

        One thing Dream loved to do that always seemed to please the little girl was taking her around to see the new buildings that were slowly starting to appear as more people joined their land of the SMP. She seemed to like taking in the new sights so Dream took her whenever someone new came or a new build appeared.

        “I don’t know what I’m going to do with your uncles when you get older. They’re going to be falling over each other to get your attention.” Dream told her as he walked. “I think they think I’ll like whoever wins. You’re my special little girl after all. But what they don’t know, is I don’t care as long as you’re happy.”

        It was very true that Dream’s two best friends were always falling each other to get the attention of the infant already. They got her many things to win her over, having similar competitions when Dream wasn’t looking. Right now, the score was even.

        To try and balance the two-out, Dream would alternate on who he took out for dangerous adventures and who would stay with his little girl. He couldn’t send the both of them on their own, unfortunately, least one of them “trips” into a lava pool.

        Dream stopped on the edge of the new property, (Y/N) looking at the colorful flowers decorating it.

        He was a bit hesitant to show her off to others as he wasn’t the most trusting but if they were going to be part of his land, he would introduce her out principle. He did say she was going to be the princess of his land.

        “No new faces today doesn’t seem Tommy is around.” Dream said to her. “We’ll see him later I’m sure. How about we go visit Punz for a bit?”

        He walked away from the property. There were so many people on his land now, he was sure it would become a bright place where his little princess could always be happy.

Lost Ones Taglist: @kakamihasatmblr​ @ialexabsuniverse​ @teaguecosmos​ @chaosofsmarty​

A/N: If you want to be in this taglist I have a post on my page you can reply on or just send me an ask :)

[blackbat05]

Dad Adventures

Dad Shangqi x Mom Reader

A/N: I have gotten through my difficult week! Seriously those two weeks felt more like two months. To celebrate that, here’s another Dad Shangqi headcanon! Goodness me, you know what? Just look at me as a main Shangqi writer with other characters as side dishes. As usual, enjoy! Like and comment if you wish!

Genre: PG 13

Warnings: A heck load of fluff. Points may jump here and there since my brain is still trying to recover from my last two weeks.

Anyone who is familiar with Chinese culture, at least where I’m from, in my grandparents’ time, they preferred having boys.

Hell no Shangqi ain’t having that shit though. Boy or girl he’ll love them both equally. As long as they are healthy and happy, what more could he ask for?

But why do I feel that he wants a girl more? Baby girl would wrap him around her little finger. Before she’s even born, he promises to teach her self-defense to fend off guys in years to come.

‘Please Shangqi, take it easy though,’ you tried to hide your laugher, seeing your husband very serious.

‘Hey, don’t blame me. With your looks, she’ll be chased by so many guys. She needs to defend herself, tell the good from the bad. Actually little bean,’ he talks to your growing stomach, ‘all guys are bad.’

‘Shangqi!’

When your baby girl is born, he cries. A lot. Katy (who has been appointed godmother) secretly records this.

He’s there by your side during the whole process. He’s grateful but apologetic that you had to go through such a long and painful process. ‘You did great baby, you did great,’ he leans to brush your sweaty hair aside, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

Let’s face it ok? Having a kid isn’t all sunflowers and rainbows. When your baby girl’s born, you guys barely have enough sleep. Nevertheless, Shangqi’s always the first one out of bed whenever the baby monitor beeps.

‘Shangqi let me go,’ you tell him one night.

‘No, you need rest from carrying our little dumpling for nine months.’ He gently gets you back in bed, leaving no room for argument.

He calls your mom secretly to make Black Chicken soup (heh my mom cooked it for me before when I was feeling like really tired and it’s so good!)

He may or may not have messed up the recipe a few times. But A+ for efforts!

When you’re better, you finally go back to work. Shangqi takes on the role of a stay home dad when he’s not Avenging.

You come back home to different views everyday. All of them are very cute.

One involved, your little baby snoozing away on Shangqi’s chest as his computer is placed on the coffee table beside the sofa. You see he had just ended a meeting with Sam, Bucky, Carol and Wong.

Another scene involved her on the high chair, baby food all over her face as Shangqi attempts to feed her dinner.

When she grows older, maybe at 4 years old? She starts learning basic martial arts. Xialing is particularly enthusiastic about seeing her niece. She can’t wait to guide her around the training compound back home - she tells your daughter that one day she’ll be like the many powerful and strong women who are now training under Xialing’s leadership.

‘And when she is old enough, I will tell her who kicked her father’s ass,’ Xialing smirks at her brother. Thankfully you were out with your daughter looking at the beautiful scenery the place had to offer.

Before we end of this imagine I would see your little girl getting along so well with the rest of the avengers whenever they popped by to drop of some documents for Shangqi or just - hang.

Among all the avengers so far, she has attached herself to Auntie Carol. You’re secretly happy and proud because you hope one day your girl would be as strong as these amazing women.

Carol drops by when Shangqi is out for a quick grocery run. You take the time to catch up with her as she has been away from Earth for a while. Your little daughter runs straight into Auntie Carol’s arms and will not leave her side even when you called her.

But the moment Shangqi is back, she slowly crawls down the sofa, running to her daddy. ‘Hey dumpling!’ He affectionately gives her smooches to her chubby cheeks while you and Carol watch from the sidelines.

‘Shangqi’s a great dad,’ the Captain smiles, sipping the last bit of her tea.

Don’t you know it. You were so glad for this little family.

A/N: That’s it! Squeezed out ideas from my brain! Thanks for reading! Gosh I’m so whooped for Dad Shangqi!

[five-rivers]

@lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks came up with this op!Danny/Marvel AU!

BTW I need help naming this newest proof that I can't keep anything to a short little one-shot.

.

Loki was not, and never had been, a good man. For that matter, whether or not he’d ever been a good boy was debatable. His mother would argue that he had, but she would very likely be the only one. Well, except for Thor, perhaps, but that was because he was an idiot who could drown in three inches of nostalgia. Like he didn’t remember every time Loki had humiliated him. Maybe he didn’t, for all that he kept falling for the same trick over and over again.

It made Loki’s late nights studying the arts of illusion, misdirection, and lying seem redundant. Almost. Not everyone was as dense as his big brother.

No. Loki had never been a good man. He had, however, been a free man.

Free to run or hide. Free to explore the nooks and crannies of Asgard, to uncover her secrets in ways few cared to do. Free to walk hidden paths between the Nine Realms and even farther flung territories, where his people did not and had never ruled, to play games, make deals, have adventures, take risks. To be. To exist as his own creature.

He had been free. He had.

But on one of those little secret excursions, he had discovered something that had made even his flippant, slippery heart clench with fear. A ravening plague, spreading across the stars. The death of half of everything on the horizon.

Loki was not a good man. What cause did he have to care for all the sundry others in the universe? There were too many. It was too much to ask.

But Asgard—His home, even though the had long ago realized the blood in his veins originated on very different soil. That was different.

Asgard, he could help. Asgard could survive.

But it had to be strong. It had to have strong allies. None of this barely-held peace, this enemy eternally at their gates. It needed strong leadership. Not his brother’s simplistic view and longing for the glory of war.

Loki was not a good man. But he was one who could get things done.

Before he knew it, he had burned all his bridges behind him. In one case, a literal bridge that was literally broken.

And he fell.

And he fell.

And he fell right into the hands of the one he had feared enough to do this. Broken enough for poison to drip into the cracks. No one knew where he was, no one could know where he was, except, perhaps, Heimdal, and Loki sincerely doubted Heimdal cared. No one was coming for him. No one was looking for him. No rescue was forthcoming.

He was alone.

Asgardians were considered gods for a reason. Their bodies and minds were much more resilient than the average mortal’s. But Thanos’s people had been titans, and there was a reason for that, too.

Thanos enjoyed breaking him.

And Loki turned his lies on himself. A skilled master of games always had one gifted opponent, even alone. Hadn’t he wanted to rule? To command? To see a world, any world, prostrate at his feet? To be given the recognition and praise of which he was so worth?

To pull something, anything, out of the fire?

(If he had spent less time learning how to spin lies and more on how to see the truth, he might not have believed it. A better, wiser, man would have. But Loki was not a good man. And he was very skilled in his craft.)

So, his new master put a weapon in his hands, and he went off to conquer a world.

.

Danny was used to rude awakenings. He was used to those rude awakenings being full body chills and ghosts, not someone knocking on his door.

Blearily, he pulled himself out from under the blankets. Quasi-military government facility or not, the beds were comfortable. Maybe Mom or Dad had gotten themselves locked out of their room? Or Jazz—No, not Jazz, she hadn’t come with them. She was at college, not being flown places by Mom and Dad’s suspiciously generous new consulting job.

At least it wasn’t the GIW.

He stood on tiptoe (curse his perpetually short body) to peer out the peephole. His parents’ buff, one-eyed, and incredibly imposing new boss stood in front of the door, hands on his hips, slightly sweeping back his long dark coat. If Danny listened carefully, he could hear two other people near the door, and… was that an alarm? Yes. Faint, but present, was a warning klaxon.

Okay. Danny would bet his right arm that something had gone horribly wrong with whatever his parents were consulting on. Didn’t explain why the boss was in front of his door.

Unless they’d gotten the rooms mixed up, somehow?

Ugh. Danny wasn’t paid enough to deal with this.

He opened the door. “What-?”

“Phantom,” intoned eyepatch guy with great solemnity.

Danny immediately tried to close the door. The guy stuck his foot in the jamb, and, sure, Danny could have crushed it, but that would be a jerk move. He didn’t think this guy was going for a pirate look, after all.

“We need your help.”

.

“I’m not sure what you think I can help you with,” yelled Danny over the beating of the helicopter blades. He’d remained stubbornly in human form. “My parents are the scientists. This sounds like a science thing. Not a punching-people thing.”

“We spoke to them earlier,” said Fury, “and we have plenty of scientists working on the theories they brought up. You’re the one with practical experience.”

“Practical experience in what?”

“Interdimensional portals,” said the woman, who had yet to introduce herself.

As if this whole thing wasn’t already giving him a bad feeling. “My parents built an interdimensional portal. Again, you should be talking to them. They’re the ones you’re paying.”

“We could pay you, too,” said Fury, “but we assumed you would want to avoid letting your parents know about this, as you’re still a minor and they have control of your bank accounts.”

Danny stared flatly. “This is blackmail.”

“We aren’t threatening you,” pointed out the woman.

“Emotional blackmail,” said Danny, glaring, daring her to challenge him on whether or not he actually knew what blackmail was.

In the meantime, the helicopter landed. Danny unbuckled and hopped out, trailing slightly awkwardly behind Fury and the woman. He didn’t want to stand out, but he suspected that, being the only kid here and being in the general vicinity of Fury, who radiated authority, that was a lost cause.

“This is Agent Coulson. Coulson, this is Phantom.”

Danny’s mouth went dry(er) at how casual the introduction was. His eyes went nervously to all the other people running around the field. With all the noise, it was unlikely anyone had heard, but still…

“Can you not? Secret identity and all? Unless you’ve told everyone herealready, which, rude.”

Fury sighed. “How bad is it?” he asked Coulson.

“We’re not sure,” said Coulson. “That’s the problem. Big fan of your work, by the way,” he added as an aside to Danny. He glanced at the woman. “Agent Hill.”

“Background?” asked Fury as he led the way into the building.

“The first energy surge was four hours ago. Dr. Selvig’s equipment picked it up – He’s the head scientist on this project.”

“Dr. Selvig isn’t authorized to test,” said Fury. “We wanted to run his plans by the Fentons.”

“He wasn’t testing. He wasn’t even in the room. He called it ‘spontaneous advancement.’”

“It turned itself on?”

“What are the energy levels?” asked Fury before Hill’s question could be answered.

“Climbing,” said Coulson.

“Mr. Fenton,” said Fury, “any comments?”

“Look, I don’t even know what this thing that you built looks like or what it’s a door to.” Danny frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not expecting me to fight whatever comes out of it, are you? Because, unless you’ve got a ghost portal down there, I can’t make guarantees.”

“It’s called the Tesseract,” said Coulson. “It’s supposed to be a connection to the other side of space. A source of unlimited energy. At least,” there was a note of humor in his voice despite the evacuation taking place around them, “that’s what the scientists say.”

“A door to space?” asked Danny, firmly shoving down his excitement at the prospect. “Like, a Stargate?” It was no good, he could practically feel himself sparkling. He took a firm grip of his core and reminded himself he might need to fight before the end of the day.

“Well, no,” said Coulson. “It’s this little… cube… thing.” He made a shape with his hands.

“Oh,” said Danny, mind still whirring. “You know, if it’s really a tesseract, it isn’t a cube in just three dimensions, so bigger things could come out of it than you’d think.” He’d seen some weird portals in the Ghost Zone.

“Well, right now, we’re just getting energy.” They entered a large room with an extremely sci-fi setup. It looked like they were planning to shoot some kind of laser across the room onto a platform surrounded by strange-looking panels. There were men with guns scattered around in what was probably a well thought out formation Danny couldn’t see. There was also a dude with a bow sitting up in the rafters. He frowned down at Danny as he noticed Danny noticing him.

“Dr. Selvig!”

“Director!”

“What do we know?”

Danny allowed himself to be distracted by the centerpiece of the room, a piece of machinery built around what was indeed a little cube thing. He tilted his head and approached, trying to get a better view of it around the people in lab coats and protective gear currently swarming it. He caught mention of radiation a grimaced.

It was unlikely to kill him, but, really, everyone here should probably be wearing more PPE. You never knew what was going to come out of an interdimensional portal, after all. Except trouble. Trouble was a pretty safe bet.

It was pretty. Blue. Reminded him a little of a blue raspberry ice pop. Part of him wanted to lick it. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wind up half what-ever-lived-on-the-other-side on top of his regular ghost nonsense.

“Mr. Fenton?”

Danny jumped and turned, refocusing on the adults, who had multiplied while he’d been daydreaming. The guy with the bow had joined them.

“Mr. Fenton? Like the Doctors Fenton I spoke to earlier?” asked Selvig.

“Yeah, it���s—”

This, of course, was when everything decided to explode. Sort of.

The blue cube shot out a beam of energy that had more than a little in common with the Fenton Bazooka’s portal setting. The beam terminated on the platform, a portal rapidly forming.

Danny slid into a fighting stance, and barely even noticed as blue energy washed over the room, throwing many less-prepared people back.

Something shaped like a man stepped through the portal.

Danny did not break his stance. Still. “An alien,” he whispered, eyes wide. If they were friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space. If they weren’t friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space after Danny beat them up.

(Danny did not go ghost. Did not even think about going ghost. There were too many people here, and the space was too open.)

Fury attempted to negotiate. Danny approved. Not everything that came through an interdimensional portal was necessarily evil.

Except this guy apparently was. Go figure. He could also deflect bullets and was very good with throwing knives, which led to Danny having to pull several of the gun guys out of their own line of fire as well as the alien’s line of knife. Who would have thought an alien’s weapon of choice would be throwing knives? The energy-blasting spear was much more in line with his expectations.

The bow guy proved to be more competent than the gun guys. This didn’t really surprise Danny. Bow guy sort of had to be competent. Otherwise, no way would they let him go around with a bow. Like, seriously. A bow.

Even so, bow guy was fighting an alien and—

“You have heart,” said the alien, raising the spear.

Danny pushed bow guy out of the way, and his mind fuzzed out.

(The human part of it, anyway.)

.

Loki didn’t know what a child was doing here, and he didn’t particularly care. The boy would do for a hostage, at least. He had a mission he had to fulfil, or else…

Or else.

“Please don’t,” he said turning with a shadow of his usual lazy affect, vaguely insulted that the human thought he could be sneaker that him, “I still need that.”

The human went on and on, apparently burdened with the delusion that he was on the same level as Loki.

Loki was burdened with other things. A glorious purpose. Glad tidings. Freedom. What could be better than freedom?

“A world free from what?” asked the human.

“From freedom,” said Loki, and wasn’t that what he believed, now? Wasn’t that what he’d been shown? “Freedom is life’s great lie.” He would know. He was an excellent liar. “Once you accept that, in your heart—” He batted away an arrow and tsked. “Shield me, boy,” he demanded. Had Thanos misrepresented the scepter’s powers? Or was the boy merely—

A dome of green surrounded him and the boy, thrumming with magic the likes of which he had only seen once, in a tome thrice forbidden.

“Oh,” said Loki, almost purring. “You are interesting. What are you?”

“Half human, half ghost,” replied the boy, tersely.

Loki had never heard of such a creature. No matter. He’d be sure to make good use of him.

“Grab the scientist,” he said, nodding at the balding man who had been with his brother when he’d fought the Destroyer in the desert.

Loki wanted the archer. He seemed interesting. Useful.

.

Fenton was under thrall. Phantom knew what that felt like. A hundred feet under red water, trying not to drown, whispers everywhere. Pulling. Pushing. Prodding.

This was different, but the principle was the same.

Neither half of him could truly ‘fight’ the other. Fenton and Phantom were a single entity. Not two in lockstep. Even so.

Fenton grabbed onto Dr. Selvig, as ordered. Phantom made sure that was all they did.

“What are you doing, boy?” snapped Loki. “Follow me! Bring the scientist.”

And so, they followed.

.

Loki breathed. Acquiring Barton had been the right choice. The boy was powerful, but, perhaps because of his unique biology, did not have Barton’s presence of mind, and couldn’t have led him to such wonderful allies.

Allies.

These weren’t truly his allies. Nor were they subjects. They were…

Loki forced himself to breathe. He just had to follow the mission. Follow the mission, let Thanos’s army through. He’d been promised this world. He would have this world.

And then he could be… His mind stuttered over the next word, and he shook his head, trying to drive out the painful buzz of Thanos’s herald and mouthpiece trying to contact him.

He looked up at the drones bustling around, all according to his will. Except the boy, who stared at him, somehow managing to be both utterly blank and challenging at the same time.

He was alone, here.

He was alone.

But what did it matter? Bad men always wound up alone, and Loki… Loki could never be a good man.

[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

[bunnymajo]

In case something happens to me and I’m not able to fully illustrate my off-the-wall vision that is AU-Elias x Surge, I wanna explain the dynamic:

(Put it under a break because I wasn’t expecting it to be so long)

So like (from how I understand it) Archie-Elias was this lost secret older brother of Sally’s who lived in hiding on Angel Island, he was protected by the Echidna brotherhood so he lived each day exploring the island having a good old time - until The Plot catches up with him and he has to be King now because his dad’s getting old, getting cranky and the writers were too narrow-minded to let Sally be both a freedom fighter and a leader and stay “ready to mingle”, so someone has to stay home and keep house and Elias is thrusted into this role that other people want for him, and hey he’s even an adult of marrying age too. He (understandably imo) gets cold feet and hits the bricks into the woods and marries the 1st pretty squirrel lady he meets off screen. He eventually comes back and steps up to his family duties for the good of the people and build that relationship back again with his family. 

I haven’t read much of his story after he became king, but he just strikes me as a good natured lad, a little rash/impulsive from naivete, but sees the good in people and just wants to help, even if it’s something beyond his scope and the REAL problem is much deeper than he could probably control on his own, but he’s gonna do his best anyway. 

So my AU version, that’s the main energy I would want to bring to the table. I made him & Sally the same age because I think that would give them a tighter relationship (and also because I thought they were twins before I actually read the comics, I was really surprised to learn he was a dad lol) but since the Kingdom of Acorn isn’t so fractured and archaic, Elias is just the “baby” of the family who’s sheltered and mostly does his own thing - he wants to be taken seriously and do more but Sally’s more of the brains between them and does it for him - there’s not really a need for him to “grow”.

But then the events of Sonic Forces happen and he gets lost in the shuffle and is on his own. In his new journey he’s finding out more about himself, helping people along the way, he loves it! He knows he has to go back home, and of course he doesn’t want to worry his family, but also kinda doesn’t want to.

-------

Meanwhile Surge, who (unless something drastic changes by the end of her arc rn idk) is on her own, has no home except for wherever her & Kit happen to be. Has no respect for authority or heroes and kind of just wants to be a problem on purpose, at her core, deep down in there is just teen who wants to go home but doesn’t know where that is or where to start, so she’s making it everyone elses problem. And that’s not even mentioning her sense of self and the abuse trauma. 

Since she’s a new character, the rest of the cast doesn’t even know she exists, and after this arc I can’t think of anyone in the main game cast that would want to get to know her better. Maybe Rough & Tumble, but she’s got Kit, she doesn’t need any more underlings. Maybe Shadow but he’s got his own baggage. Maybe Amy but she did try to burn her alive indirectly once, plus Amy might not be keen on the whole “Trying to murder all her friends” thing. Surge’s got no friends (except Kit) and that’s just how she likes it (or is it?)

---

So the dynamic of Elias & Surge meeting, I think Elias’s pure hearted nature, his openness to new people, his scrappy “lets fight for fun and go adventuring” attitude, his sparkly face, he would be too nice and good to her for her to outright kill on sight. 

She’d try maybe, but luck is on Elias side here, so any zap she might try to pull misses, if she hits him he’s like “wow your left jab is amazing!”, he would just see it as play fighting. He would be like Sonic without his showoff personality, and Surge isn’t brainwashed to hate Elias like she is with Sonic, so she secretly finds it infuriatingly charming. He also has no idea what happened in Central City etc., the fact that she’s got robot parts in her, or her goal to burn the world down, he just thinks she’s some funky gal who’s into fighting, and “that’s cool! Wow! I guess running really fast is just a trait some people can have! She’s so quirky!” She also has no idea he’s royalty and just thinks he’s some dopey traveler.

After Surge realizes Elias isn’t leaving or is really even a threat to her she eventually just becomes kinda friends with him. They talk about wilderness survival tips, fighting techniques, how parents just don’t understand, cooking tips, their favorite bands, ya know, normal teen conversations. He becomes her one friend (aside from Kit). 

(Kit looks down on Elias, like he thinks he’ll never be good enough for Surge, but he’ll put up with their friendship as long as she’s ok, and every once in awhile he’ll catch Surge smiling and think “ok, maybe this guy’s not so bad”. But the moment things go sour Kit will show him no mercy. Elias gives Kit free candy & toys and thinks he’s like 6.)

It’s purely comedic rom-com fluff that has the potential to become as dramatic as possible, the best kind.

TLDR: I think it would be funny.

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part I) - Chapter 04

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words:  9.832K

Authors note: In this one I start to explore more of the magical bond between reader and wanda, and well, it will be very much about that from this one on. I need to know if you all prefer longer (and more detailed) chapters about the reader's years at hogwarts like this one (which has been divided into three parts) or if you prefer the pace of the first three chapters (with only the relevant events of the whole year). Enjoy your reading.

//-// x //-// //-// x //-//

It's very different having Nebula and Gamora at home. 

You were used to having only Tony and Jarvis, and occasionally your father, but now that you have your friends sleeping in the next two rooms, you always have someone your own age to talk to and laugh about the same things.

It took a while for things to normalize, especially the first week. Thanos was furious about the letter that Gamora sent him, saying that they would live with you now. He showed up in the yard of your house the next day, and you have never seen your father so enraged.

They talked for many minutes, and then Thanos demanded to speak to his daughters. Nebula was trembling as she walked out the door, but your father stayed by their side during the entire conversation.

When they went back inside, Thanos left. Two days later, your father signed the adoption papers.

You were surprised when you discovered that Nebula was as passionate about magical mechanics as Tony, so it didn't take long for it to become commonplace for her to disappear into the basement of the house along with your brother, both of them wrapped up in some strange invention. You and Gamora usually spent most of your time in the backyard, she reading some Arithmanian stuff you didn't understand, while you played quidditch, or the two of you tended the garden. Mantis also came to visit you in the summer, and Groot was the size of a small dog now.

You exchanged many letters with Wanda during the vacations. And when Iron brought another one of them a little after dinner, on the antepenultimate week of vacation while you and Gamora were in your room talking about the coming year, she acquired a mischievous look on her face.

"What do you guys talk about so much?" She teased as you took the letter from Iron's beak. You shrugged, feeling your face heat up, and thought it better to look at the paper in your hands than Gamora's face.

“I don’t know,. Everything i think”. You answer.

Gamora is silent as you read the letter. You smile, because it is as if you hear Wanda's voice in the words you read. 

"Can I ask you something?" Gamora speaks next, you make a noise with the little one in agreement, without taking your eyes off the paper. "Have you ever kissed anyone?

"What?" you ask in surprise, raising your eyes to her. "N-no."

Gamora's arms are crossed and she's sitting on the bed, and she raises her eyebrow in disbelief.

"Is that so?" She asks and you swallow dryly, confirming. Her expression softens. "I'm only saying that because a lot of people start dating in third grade."

You close the letter in your hands, placing it on the shelf beside you. Ignoring how the subject makes your stomach flip with nervousness, you rest your hands on your knee.

"Do you think we'll start dating too?" You ask shyly, and Gamora smiles, shrugging.

"Who knows?" She retorts. "I never thought about that either. But I do know that Pietro kissed Monica on the mouth after our leave vacation inside a cabin on the Hogwarts express."

"Are you for real?" You asked in surprise. "How did you find out about that?"

"Quill wrote to me last night." She says. "I forgot to tell you."

"Wow." You say. 

"Yeah." She agrees. "Peter told me that Pietro turned red as a tomato, but kept smiling. I thought Wanda would tell you that."

You bit your tongue to avoid mentioning that you and Wanda don't talk about such things, and cleared your throat before shrugging.

"Maybe Pietro didn't say anything to her." You say. "I probably won't tell Tony when I have my first kiss."

"You're probably right." Gamora said casually. "But you're going to tell me, right? When you kiss someone, you need to tell me how to do it."

You laughed, walking over to Gamora.

"I promise I will." You say extending your pinky to her. She looks at you confused, "It's a pinky promise, haven't you ever sworn like that?"

"That's muggles' stuff." She comments with a smile, and you laugh.

"Yeah, my dad probably learned it from my mom." You say using your other hand to take Gamora's hand. "Come on, you put your finger like this, and then we swear."

Gamora laughed as she followed your commands, and then you repeated the promise. After you yawned, she bade you goodnight and went to her room.

You fought the urge to reread Wanda's letter, and threw yourself on the bed, not understanding why your brain was replaying Gamora's questions in your mind and you kept thinking of Wanda afterwards.

//-//

The Quidditch World Cup is happening this year, and you can hardly contain yourself with excitement.

You had been to the event a few times when you were younger, but now that you actually played quidditch it was a very different feeling.

Your favorite team was the Guardians of the Galaxy, who had played for England for many years, and were also your father's favorite team. Tony stopped liking them the first year, saying that they were losing too many games, but you knew it was because Steve Rogers was rooting for the Brooklyn Soldiers team and Tony was trying to impress him.

All your friends will be at the event, including many thousands of other witches from all over the world. 

You have to wake up at dawn in order not to miss the time of the portal keys that have been scattered around the country by the Ministry of Magic, to prevent wizards from being seen disappearing into inappropriate places that could expose the magical world.

When you came down to the kitchen, everyone was already having breakfast. Your father kissed your forehead as he walked past you, a mug of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"Finally awake, sleepyhead." Teased Tony when he saw you, you just yawned. 

"Are we leaving already?" You asked sleepily, grabbing some toast.

"Yes, dear." Her father replied looking at his watch. "Get ready soon, or we'll miss the schedule."

You grumble in agreement, hurrying to get back to your room and take a shower. 

When you are ready, and stretching as you walk to the outside of the house, Gamora joins you, a backpack on her back resembling yours.

"I can't wait to see the foreign wizards." She comments excitedly making you smile. Gamora didn't like the sport, and was far more excited to see the witches from the rest of the world than to watch the match.

"I bet there's going to be some Ilvermorny people's stall." You say as you catch up with your father, who was waiting next to Tony and Nebula. Jarvis waves goodbye to you from the doorway, and you begin walking toward the trail beyond the mansion grounds. "They are so show-offy."

Gamora laughs.

"I've never met anyone from the United States." She counters. "But some witches from Japan have been to my house."

You know that the mention of home or Thanos makes Gamora very uncomfortable, so you try to skirt around the subject.

"I guess Nurse Cho was from Mahoutokoro, huh?" You comment, and Gamora shrugs. "Thor had mentioned that during a class, I think."

"I wonder if the other schools are cool like Hogwarts?" She asks, and you smile.

"No place is like Hogwarts."

Gamora laughs, but agrees. You walk in silence for a few more minutes, and it is only when you reach an empty area that you stop.

"Here we are, people." Your father says next, slightly tired from the exercise. He waves for everyone to form a circle as he checks his watch. "Two minutes to go, children. Stand in position please."

There is a small cloth boot in the center of the circle, and you are not the least bit surprised because you know that portal keys are usually the most mundane things you can think of.

You all reach down and touch the boot with your fingertips. You smile at Tony who looks up at you. Two minutes later, you feel a tug, and everything spins around you. Taking a deep breath, you focus on controlling yourself as you are falling into the portal key. And then you land on the ground.

"Here we are." Your father says smiling beside you. You look to the side to see Gamora helping Nebula to stand up properly, as she had remarked that she gets a little queasy with this kind of magic. Tony throws an arm around your shoulders next.

"Ready to see the guardians lose, kid?" He teases causing you to let out a humorless laugh.

"You wish." You grumble pushing Tony lightly, who lets go as he laughs.

And then you start walking again, until you come to a place considerably noisier than where you were before.

The ministry seemed to have bypassed an area with low chains, and you notice the magical aura around the metal, signaling that everything was magically hidden.

There is a wizard in uniform at the entrance, and he collects the tickets before letting you pass into the hut area. 

There are many tents of the most varied characteristics. You laugh in surprise when your gaze catches a conjuration exactly like a vacation castle, but much smaller in size. As you walk through the crowd, your father asks everyone to hold hands so as not to get lost as he guides you to the area where you would be staying.

Your father has rented a tent in a more private area of the place, and there are hardly any witches where you are. You like the silence, but you miss how much more fun the other place seems.

"The Rogers and the Barnes should be here by now I imagine." Your father comments as he waves his wand to open the cabin. You enter the room next, it is like a small winter home inside, very cozy.

"Yes, dad." Tony replies throwing his backpack on one of the couches. "I wrote Steve last night."

Howard grumbles in agreement, walking to the kitchen. You place your backpack on the floor next.

"Daddy, can I go look for Wanda and Pietro?" You ask and your father laughs, denying it.

"You didn't eat anything before you left, honey." He says turning around. "Eat something and then you can go look for them."

You grumble, but agree. While you are making some eggs, Steve's family arrives.

"Howard, you outdo yourself every year, my friend." Joseph Rogers comments as he enters the cabin. Your father smiles cheerfully as he hugs him in greeting, then greets Sarah, Steve's mother, with a kiss on the cheek. He ruffles Steve's hair and pats his arm, repeating the same gesture to Bucky, who follows behind.

" Is your father not here, James?" Howard asks next, and Bucky clears his throat.

"No, sir." He replies. "Since my sisters can't come, he took them to a music event in the muggle world. If you want my opinion, rock concerts are as cool as quidditch."

The comment makes Howard laugh in agreement, but Steve's family doesn't seem to understand very well.

Soon they were all around the room, talking animatedly about the most varied subjects. You exchanged a complicit look with Gamora and Nebula, and you took advantage of your father being involved in a conversation with Joseph to leave the cabin.

"Do you have any idea where Professor Lehnsherr has placed the tents?" Gamora asks you once you are outside and you look around.

"No." You reply. "Wanda just wrote that she and Pietro were going to be here too, but I don't even know if it's Magneto that's bringing them."

"We're just left to look then." Nebula concludes and you nod in agreement, starting to walk.

You walk back to the common tent area, looking around.

Gamora and Nebula are easily distracted by the amount of interesting things to see, and almost lose track of you when some witches from the Salem Institute hand them some exchange pamphlets. 

It is only at the food stall that you finally find who you were looking for.

"My god, is that...?" You hear Gamora exclaim next to you in surprise. You know she was talking about Professor Lehnsherr, who is wearing jeans and a T-shirt and sunglasses and looks very well, and has a completely different posture than he usually has in class, but you are not looking at him anymore. 

Your stomach is restless because you are looking at Wanda, wearing a black skirt with knee socks and boots, and a red jacket. She looks beautiful, and you are blushing.

Gamora waves to them from a distance, and it is Pietro who notices you guys first, waving back cheerfully while nudging Wanda on the shoulder. She blinks in confusion and then smiles when she sees you.

You think your legs have turned to jelly, but you continue walking toward her. 

"It's so good to see you girls" Pietro exclaims happily as he hugs Gamora. 

"Hi, Wanda." You greet with a half-hearted smile, but Wanda's face lights up and she jumps at you, hugging you tight, and making your heart soar. "It's good to see you too." You whisper humorously against her hair, and Wanda releases you with a reddened face, smiling widely.

"I missed you." She says to you shyly making you look away clumsily, but before you can add anything else, Pietro is greeting you as well, and Wanda does the same with your sisters.

"Hello everyone." Said a male voice next, and you stared at Professor Erik awkwardly. He didn't seem bothered by being approached by any of you, however, a hot dog in his hands. 

"Hello, Professor Lehnsherr." You and your sisters said in unison, but the man had an almost friendly expression. 

"Don't worry about being formal while we're here, girls." He says. "We're just sorcerers in here, looking for a little cheap entertainment."

You and Gamora exchange a look, not knowing exactly what to say next. Professor Erik sighs, and then looks at his children.

"You can go spend some time with the Starks, twins." He says making his kids let out excited exclamations. "Be back by the start time of the match, please. I don't want to lose sight of you in a place with so many people of unreliable origin."

You don't quite understand what "unreliable origin" means, but you don't question it, excited to spend some time with the Maximoffs.

After Erik gives them a few galleons to buy whatever snacks they want, you walk back to the cabin.

//-//

You spent the whole afternoon with all your friends in the cabin, playing magical games, practicing simple spells, and trying to guess the outcome of the match. When the first warning alarm sounded, you all let out a chorus of excitement.

You ran to your room, looking for the cheerleader accessories you had obtained, while ignoring the teasing Tony was throwing at you about the opponent team's sure victory.

He and the Rogers were all wearing blue and white scarves, bracelets and hats, which represented the colors of the Brooklyn Soldiers.

Your father was wearing a big red jacket with the symbol of a gold star, the team's mark. You gave him one of the buttons you brought.

Pietro was also rooting for the Soldiers, along with Nebula and Bucky, so you didn't try to lend any of your accessories to them.

Wanda was in the room when you put a blue scarf with gold accents around her neck.

"For you to support the team." You commented excitedly, without any idea that Wanda's flushed face was because the scarf smelled like you.

"Thanks." She said shyly, and you just nodded, holding some bottons on her shirt.

Gamora borrowed one of the hats you brought.

When you walked towards the stadium area, all the other spectators were leaving their tents and tents and going in the same direction, so the crowd was even bigger. You did your best not to get lost.

Once inside the iron structure, you felt someone nudge your shoulder.

"Pietro and I need to find Dad." Wanda said and you waved, but then frowned, nodding back.

"I think he found you first." You comment while watching Erik look at you as he enters the same iron corridor. He looks at your family and friends next for a moment, his expression serious. "See you after the game, right?"

"Of course." Wanda smiles before touching your arm lightly. You still feel the touch many moments later.

//-//

The match is absolutely incredible. It is even better because the guardians win with a remarkable difference when catcher Jean Gray captures the Snitch after the second half, the stadium vibrating in celebration.

It's a complete mess after that. There are fireworks, and a lot of noise. Even though they lost the match, all the Brooklyn Soldiers fans are so impressed with the incredible match that they join the celebrations.

You stumble out of the stadium between laughter, Gamora's arm around your shoulders as she laughs at the dance that your father and Joseph are doing on the way back.

Fans of the Guardians continued to light the celebratory fireworks, and there was a huge fireworks scarlet dragon streaking through the skies above your heads.

Your dad and the Rogers family go back to the cabin while you stay outside with Bucky and your friends, wanting to enjoy the rest of the fireworks display. You also want to see Wanda again.

"The Guardians are very excited, aren't they?" Bucky comments with a laugh, noticing an increase in the volume of the crowd's screams. You laugh and you look at the sky again.

When you blink, there is an explosion noise in the distance, so muffled by the other sounds that it makes you confused. Your friends don't seem to have heard, and you step forward, watching the crowd closely.

You see a lot of people laughing, and dancing, and it takes a minute for you to also notice those who are running.

"Guys." You call in confusion, and Gamora who was closest to you turns around with curiosity. "I think there is something wrong."

Another explosion occurs and this time everyone listens. The crowd in front seems to gradually realize that there is something wrong going on. And then the firework dragon in the sky is fading, considerably dimming the lighting.

Your father came out of the hut the next moment, a concerned look on his face, and the wand in his hands.

You feel a panic rising in the pit of your stomach when people start running and screaming, and you notice spells being cast from a distance. You were thinking it might be some kind of cheering team fight, but the possibility is completely ruled out when you notice the masked men in the crowd.

"Get your things now." Order your father out loud and then you are all moving back to the cabin, picking up all your belongings quickly. You hold the backpack tightly against your shoulders when you go out again, complete chaos around you. Your father, Joseph and Sarah lead you among the people, shouting that you need to get back to the portkey. You gasp in surprise when you feel a twinge behind your eyes, and you are struck by a vision of a forest. This little delay is enough to make you stay behind and lose sight of your family.

But you are not looking for them anyway. Your feet are spinning in the opposite position, and you are pushing people to run. You need to find Wanda.

//-//

You end up at the end of the camp, the tents far behind you. The sound of confusion drowned out by the distance. Feeling a new stab of pain in the head, your knees give way and your body lowers, while you raise your hands to your face, immediately being hit by a vision. This time you see a shadow of a tall figure, perhaps a man, standing in front of you. There is a metallic taste of blood in your mouth, and you want to get away, but there is something holding you back. When you blink, you're back the end of the camp.

You don't understand what's going on, and there is a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness in your chest, but you keep walking, crossing the magical chain and moving into the forest. You fall to the ground on your knees a moment later, intense pain all over your body. Gasping, you look up, only to see a green light form in the sky.

At first you thought it might be fireworks, but it was magic. The symbol of a hydra conjured in the clouds was beginning to move, and your entire body weighed.

You looked down, and your eyes caught a figure in the woods. It was a man, but he was too far away and you couldn't see his face. He had his wand raised to the sky, clearly being responsible for conjuring it up. Your head started to spin in pain, and you rested your hands on the ground to try to normalize your breathing, and then the man looked at you.

You felt your heart race when he started walking towards you, but then there were screams and footsteps, and he ran. A moment later, your father was kneeling beside you.

"Darling! Are you okay?" He asked worriedly raising his hands to your face looking for bruises. You sighed, still in pain. Only when the aurors of the ministry of magic raised their wands to the sky and made the mark disappear,  you feel your body relieve immediately.

"I saw a man." You confessed breathlessly, and your father looked at you with confusion. But the wizards of the ministries seemed quite interested.

"Where, child?" Asked one of the aurors, you gasped slightly, feeling your body tremble a little.

"He went in that direction." You say pointing. "He was the one who conjured."

The woman nodded in understanding, and left after whistling for the rest of the Aurors to follow her. Your father helped you to stand.

"Honey, listen to me carefully." He said in a mixture of concern and seriousness. "Don't tell anyone about this."

“What, daddy? I don't.."

"Honey, please." He interrupts by stroking your cheeks with his thumb. “I will explain everything to you, I promise. But this needs to stay between us. You can't tell anyone what you saw in the sky.”

You swallow dry, but agree. Your dad doesn't let go of your hand all the way back to the portkey, and when you rejoin your friends again, you lie and say you just got lost in the food stall area after he gives a little grip on your fingers.

//-//

Your father doesn't explain anything to you.

When you return home, he receives urgent howlers from the ministry, and then he returns to the ministry of magic.

You are walking around the kitchen, outraged that you were prevented from looking for Wanda on your way out of the stadium and you have no idea if she is okay.

"What if the Maximoffs have a phone?" You grumble to yourself, but then you remember that you don't even have the number. You press your hands to your face, trying to calm yourself down. Wanda was fine. She had to be.

Gamora and Nebula are sitting on the couch, discussing something with each other, looking concerned. Tony locked himself in the room after Howard refused to tell him what was going on.

You don't understand why you have this horrible feeling in your chest, and you can't stop wondering if Wanda is okay, and then you support your hands on the table, trying to normalize your breathing and stop yourself from crying.

"Hey, breathe." You are almost startled by the voice at your side. Gamora touches your back tenderly, and you shake your head, feeling the tears flow. "She's fine, you need to breathe."

"You don't know that." You snap out of breath, and then Gamora puts her hand on your shoulder, asking you to look at her.

“We met Erik on the way out while you got lost. They left before you came back. ” She tells and you blink confused. “Wanda is safe. Breathe."

You gasp, and then your body relaxes as if a weight has been lifted off your back. Gamora looks at you with a mixture of concern and confusion, but you sigh, hugging her in appreciation.

"Thank you." You whisper against her hair. "I should have asked."

When you let go, she still looks at you with concern.

"Yeah, I know." She says assessing her face. "You should have asked how anyone else would do it."

You frown, not understanding what she is saying. But she still looks at you, suspicious.

“It looks like you were barely listening to us when your dad brought you back. And then I find you like that, and one word is enough to get you back to normal. ”

"What do you mean, Gamora?"

"I'm worried about you." She says. "I don't know what it is, but there is something strange about the way Wanda affects you."

You change the weight of your feet, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's talking about you not being able to bewitch Wanda." Nebula adds by getting up and walking over to you. You blink confused, ready to say that story was too old, but the girl is not intimidated. "She's talking about the way you behave around her."

"I don `t…"

"It's not just about liking someone." Nebula interrupts and you feel your cheeks heat up. "Gamora thought it was because you are in love, but that seems like something else."

Something in your stomach falls. You gasp in surprise.

"I'm not i-in love!" You exclaim with a racing heart. "I'm not…"

Gamora sighs impatiently, messing with hair. And trying to calm you down, she puts her hands on your shoulders next.

"Listen to me, okay?" She asks. "There's something weird about the way you care about Wanda. We don't know what it is, but you need to admit that you can see that too."

Facing your friend back, it takes a moment while you think of your words, for you to speak again.

"I saw a mark in the sky." You confess, deciding to disobey your father. Gamora blinks in confusion, and you clear your throat before you clear up everything that happened. Her hands fall off your shoulders when she opens her eyes wide for your confessions.

"Are you sure it was a hydra?" Nebula asks seriously and you wave.

"Do you know what that means?" You ask, and the girls exchange a look, but before they say it, you hear another voice.

"It is the Mephisto mark."

You get scared of Tony coming down the stairs, his gaze on you as he walks over to where you are. He folds his arms when he reaches you.

"Which means death walkers are back."

"Tony ..."

"You said you saw a wizard." He interrupts seriously. "Do you have any idea who it is?"

"No." You embarrassingly deny it, feeling your stomach sink with the look Tony is giving you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are the one who's been weird." He replies. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on."

"What did you mean by that?"

"What did you see in your head?" He counters with another question and you start to get angry at the way he is behaving, but tell him anyway. Tony sighs impatiently, turning in the opposite direction. He circles the room for a few moments before speaking again. “Daddy is never going to let us get involved in this. Especially now that you are having visions in your head. ”

"I still haven't told him about it." You grumble and Tony looks at you in surprise.

"Then don't say anything."

"What?" You exclaim with a frown in confusion. "What you mean? I need to say. I have to find out what it is. ”

Tony laughed incredulously.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he retorted. "Dad won't tell us anything. He didn't tell us about being an Auror, or about being friends with Professor Lehnsherr. He didn't even bother to try to understand why you can't bewitch Wanda!" Tony squirms angrily, and you shrink your body to the pitch of his voice. But he sighs, running his hands through his hair, and softening his expression. "I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you. It's just... I don't like being lied to."

You looked away, feeling tired. All this talk was making your head hurt, and the previous events had affected you more than you would like to admit.

"I don't know what we can do about this." You say. "I don't understand what's going on, and Dad would be the first person I would ask something, but he's not willing to help us. I feel like I'm at a dead end."

Tony lifts his arm to your shoulder, trying to reassure you.

"Hey, don't be so concerned about it." He says. "I'll find out what I can, and well, we're going back to Hogwarts next week. You and Wanda can try to figure out what this connection is about, while I try to figure out what's going on at the ministry."

You nod in agreement and Tony smiles, hugging you briefly. You hope that despite everything, you will have a quiet year at Hogwarts.

//-//

The Maximoffs are not on board the Hogwarts express.

You are in the same cabin as your friends, squeezed in because not everyone can fit in there, and you take several turns with Peter and Darcy in turn to sit down, while you are spread out in the corridor. 

"No sign of Wanda, huh?" Gamora asked as she saw you looking around the hallway for the tenth time while you were standing outside the cabin, listening to Mantis tell you about her summer from inside.

"No." You reply. "I talked to her Slytherin colleagues, but none of them were very happy to tell me anything. Wanda didn't say anything in her last letter."

"Maybe she will arrive in a flying car, I hear they are popular." She jokes, making you laugh briefly. You can't ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach, and you sigh. Gamora places her hands on your shoulders. "Let's find something to distract you, okay? How about some explosive snap?"

//-//

Laughing at Quill's joke about the last statement in the Daily Prophet, as you walked off the train with the rest of your friends toward the castle.

A chorus of excitement coming from some students ahead of you caught your and your friends' attention, who looked in the direction curiously.

"Is that a ship?" You heard someone ask as they pointed in the direction of the lake.

There was a large old ship, right in the center, coming toward the castle. Everyone looked on excitedly.

"Students, please continue toward the castle!" Drax loudly commanded the crowd, and the students exchanged nervous whispers, all extremely curious to know who was coming to the castle. You swapped a glance with Gamora before following the crowd.

//-//

Already seated at the Hufflepuff table, you startled slightly when Mantis touched your hand.

"Calm down, you're making it snow." She asked gently. You shook your head, realizing the cloud you had accidentally conjured up above you. You had been so nervous the last few minutes, which only got worse when your gaze failed to find Wanda at the Slytherin table, and to no avail was the look of reassurance Gamora threw at you when she said she would ask her colleagues about her over dinner. As soon as you sat down at the Hufflepuff table, you played with your wand between your fingers, and before you knew it, it was snowing.

"Sorry about that." You mumble clumsily, putting your wand back away. Mantis is not angry, her look is one of concern.

"I'm sure everything is fine with Wanda." Mantis says to you, and you sigh, running your hand through your hair.

"I think so too." You say. "I just don't know why I can't stop thinking about it."

"Y/N..."

You lost your attention completely on Mantis as your gaze reached the door of the hall just as you noticed the figures entering. Wanda and Pietro, walking hurriedly to the Slytherin table, being two of the last students to enter the hall before the door closed. You made mention of getting up, but Mantis held you by the shoulders. 

You were about to complain, but she pointed in the direction of the teachers' table, and you rolled your eyes, because the welcoming speech was about to begin. Your gaze remained on Wanda, but she was looking straight ahead. The only good thing was that the feeling of worry in you diminished considerably now that you were seeing her.

"[...] and I am proud to tell you that a very special event will take place at Hogwarts this year: the Triwizard Tournament!"

You are startled slightly when Headmistress Harkness' words reach your ears at the same moment that the main hall explodes in hubbub. You lose sight of Wanda because people are moving excitedly, and Mantis is nudging you to look forward.

It is only now that you notice the large stone globet and the blue flame displayed in front of the bench. You blink in surprise, feeling your face flush because you spent all the minutes of the speech staring at Wanda without realizing it.

Then the principal speaks again.

"Of course, the ministry has determined rules for the safety of the students." She recounts. "No student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to participate in the tournament, in addition to the dueling rules..."

The principal's speech was drowned out by the chorus of protests from the younger students, especially those in the fifth and sixth grades. You raised your eyebrow slightly, because you noticed that your brother was one of the boys who was shouting in annoyance. 

Agatha then made a stern expression, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted, and it took only a few moments for the hall to become completely silent, and for her to smile again.

"Note that the other participating schools will be staying with us this year." She continues her speech. "Please welcome the students from Durmstrang Institute."

The doors to the main hall opened again, and a small crowd of students wearing thick winter coats entered. A tall, shabby-looking man with a scar over his right eye was at the front, guiding the students.

"Agatha!" Greeted the man with open arms as he reached the headmistress. Agatha smiled as she hugged him, and you tried to get a look at the new folks, as did the rest of the school, who were looking excitedly at the crowd. You let out a surprised exclamation when you recognized one of the faces. Your classmates also seemed to realize who it was, because many whistles and comments were heard. 

"That's Jean Grey, isn't it?" Peter Parker asked sitting next to you. When you confirmed it, he widened his eyes. "Wow, I didn't know she was still in school."

"She's the youngest catcher of the century, Parker." You commented with a smile. 

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" He retorted, and you made a noise of agreement.

The students reached the front of the hall next.

"It's good to have you here, Yondu." Said the headmistress. "How was the trip?"

"Wet and noisy, woman!" Rebutted the man humorously. He didn't seem too excited to greet any other teachers, focused only on the woman in front of him. Agatha looked at the students next.

"Please feel free to join any of the empty seats, all the houses were honored to accommodate you." She warned the students, but they only moved after Yondu waved lightly at them.

You bit the inside of your cheek, noting that almost everyone sat down at the Slytherin table. Yondu joined the students next, not failing to take a good look at the goblet before sitting down.

Agatha looked down the hall again.

"Let us also welcome our honored guests from Beauxbatons."

The students at Beauxbatons' institute seemed nicer the first moment you saw them, but as soon as you noticed the way their cloaks were bewitched to land gracefully on the floor as they moved, you figured they must be the kind of people who wouldn't be happy with Hogwarts' cleaning schedule.

The principal of Beauxbatons was a tall, stout woman, very beautiful. She had a crown on her head, and you wondered if the people of Beauxbatons were royalty in some way. 

"Ovette, it is an honor to have you with us." She greeted Principal Agatha, but unlike before, her smile was cold, almost fake. The other woman didn't seem happy to be there either, but returned the greeting in the same formality.

The Beauxbatons students sat down at Gryffindor's table, and you giggled when Quill grimaced at you from his table as one of the boys sat down next to him.

Suddenly you felt very hungry. And dinner didn't disappoint. 

"I think you'd better wait to talk to Wanda tomorrow," Mantis remarked next to you as soon as you finished eating. You frowned, looking at her.

"Why?"

"Professor Lehnsherr has been staring at the Slytherin table like he's going to cast a good behavior spell at them the entire dinner." She counters as she looks at the teachers' table. You look just in time to catch Erik with a stern look toward the students who were talking loudly on the end before he went back to eating his potato salad. 

"Maybe he just expects better behavior while we have guests here." You comments, glancing back to the Slytherin table. Wanda's gaze has not searched for yours all dinner, and you are starting to get annoyed by this.

"If you're going to risk it, I suggest you do it before curfew." Mantis quips as she looks down at her own lap. Groot is trying to steal her piece of chicken, and she smiles as she hands him a loaf of bread.

You look around. All the students are sitting at their respective house tables, and despite the loud buzz of conversation, no one is standing. You know that if you stood up, and walked to the other side of the room, everyone would look at you. Sighing in annoyance, you rest your face on your hand and your elbow on the table, giving up on talking to Wanda during dinner.

When dessert arrives, you become distracted.

//-//

Your best idea is to catch up with Wanda at the end of dinner, but you frown when she doesn't get up from the table along with the other students. The next moment, Professor Erik is joining her, and the crowd of Hufflepuff students pushing you out makes you lose sight of her.

You mumble softly to yourself when you have to go back to the dormitory, and Mantis gives you a short smile, equally annoyed by your nervousness.

//=//

You tried to sleep. Maybe at some point you did.

After you went back to the dorm with everyone else, put on your pajamas and turned off the lights, you think you fell asleep almost immediately. But there was no rest.

The minute you fell asleep, you were somewhere else, fully conscious.

It looked like a graveyard, and there was a lot of smog. You turned over, feeling breathless, and saw a red light, maybe it was a spell. The next moment you woke up, panting, opening your eyes and immediately sitting up in bed. Surprised at the amount of sweat on your shirt, you frowned.

The dormitory was completely dark, and everyone was sleeping around you. You felt thirsty, and as you tried to understand exactly what you had dreamed, you left the room.

The rest of the common room was also empty, and you sighed as an idea crossed your mind. Biting your lips, you shook your head. No, you were not going to sneak through the dormitory into the Slytherin hall, because that was absolutely against all the rules, and more importantly, it would be weird.

Ignoring the sudden urgency you felt to follow your idea, you forced yourself back to your dormitory, hoping that you would be able to sleep again.

//-//

The next day, you had no need to look for Wanda, because she found you first.

As soon as you left for breakfast, accompanied by Mantis, you gasped in surprise as you felt some jump on you just before the entrance to the main hall.

"I missed you." Wanda sighed as she wrapped her arms around your neck. Some students looked at you curiously, but you didn't mind, circling Wanda's waist to return the hug. 

"I missed you too." You retorted by hiding your face in her neck, feeling your whole body relax with the scent of her perfume.

But a sound of someone clearing their throat broke the moment, and Wanda turned away from you, her cheeks flushed.

"You saw each other last week." Pietro teased with a slight frown on his forehead. He didn't press the matter, however, greeting you afterwards.

You made your way to the Slytherin table, your newly awakened friends looking sleepy as they lazily enjoyed their breakfast.

After greeting everyone, you sat down next to Gamora, who was looking at the daily prophet.

"Not a word about what happened in the Quidditch world cup" She commented indignantly. The group shared the same reaction. "All the news is about the triwizard tournament being held at Hogwarts."

"Maybe they don't want to cause a panic." Quill then reasoned. You knew that he, as well as Mantis, only knew about what happened in the cup because of the letters you and Gamora sent. 

"It just seems like they are hiding the truth." Gamora retorts without taking her gaze off the paper. You glance at the figures moving around before turning your attention back to your coffee.

"Clearly corrupt wizarding ministry matters aside, is anyone here going to try to sign up for the tournament?" Quill asked next, causing you to frown as Nebula and Gamora gave a giggle.

"No one here is of age." You comment with confusion, but Quill gives a wry chuckle.

"You Hufflepuff people are adorable." He teases making you laugh. He stretches his arms out to Pietro and Monica's shoulders next as he is sitting between them. "My Gryffindor buddies have found the perfect solution to solve this problem."

You look at the three of them curiously. Gamora rolls her eyes, and turns her attention back to the cereal.

"Let me guess, aging potion?" Nebula then suggests, and Quill lets out an impressed exclamation.

"Look at you Nebula, who would have guessed?  I'll make a troublemaker out of you yet." He jokes, but Nebula just raises her middle finger at him, making the rest of the table laugh.

You are slightly distracted because Wanda asked you to pass the jelly to her and your fingers brushed against each other, and you had to keep it together, unaware because the sensation spread a tingle across your skin, so you are startled when Quill lets out an excited exclamation next.

"I just remembered!" He says. "I didn't complain enough about the cancellation of the Quidditch cup between the houses. I was sure Gryffindor would win this year."

Wanda lets out a wry chuckle, and Quill makes a mocking face at her, tossing a piece of bread in her direction. 

You like to see your friends like that, playing with each other. The next moment, Mantis asks how Quill intends to get past the goblet spells to put his name on it, and the boy spends the next few minutes arguing that the aging spell is enough to break the enchantment, and your friends seem happy to argue with him about it.

//-//

You're not sure how you're going to tell Wanda that you need to talk to her about the events of the vacations, and the cup, and well, your connection to her, so you ignore the suggestive look Gamora throws at you after coffee and decide to put it off for as long as you can.

Your classes seem to have gotten even harder and more boring, but you struggle. It's even trickier to pay attention when the whole school is excited about the triwizard tournament, and there' a lot of noise between and during the classes, after a while, the teachers give up on calming the moods.

Without Quidditch, you have free periods, and you use this time to spend with your friends, either playing witch chess or explosive snap, or even getting some practice with your broom.

The foreign students get more comfortable as time goes on. You would think that they would be sleeping in one of the dormitories, but they are staying on the ships and in the carriages that they have come on.

The only times you got a glimpse of Beauxbatons' carriages was on the way to the class on the Tract of Magical Creatures, and you weren't the only one trying to get a better look, but the guardian Drax was quick to scare off any curious people who got too close.

With three weeks of classes, the atmosphere at Hogwarts had changed a lot. You knew it was because the date for choosing champions was approaching, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath about it. 

Pietro and Quill actually proceeded with the idea of trying to fool the goblet with an aging potion. You and the girls joined them in the room where the magic object had been placed, and witnessed them try. And fail miserably. Wanda was worried that Pietro had been hurt when he was thrown across the room trying to get through the protective circle, but as soon as she saw his aged face, she laughed, and all the girls followed her.

Pietro and Quill were annoyed for three seconds before they began to laugh as well.

You fell silent the next moment, however, because Jean Grey entered the room accompanied by Headmaster Youndu, both of whom looked at you all reproachfully.

Jean placed a piece of parchment in the flame, and you all watched with some admiration as the goblet accepted her inscription.

The small admiring smile you had on your lip completely disappeared when Jean looked at Wanda on her way out, her gaze flashing in a way that made your stomach turn the wrong way.

When Pietro started talking about how amazing it was to have a famous player at school, you didn't feel excited about the idea anymore.

//-//

After your double period of potions on Thursday the last week of September, you could practically catch the anxious tension of your classmates in the air.

At dinner that night, the school champions would be chosen and even you, who were more concerned about the lack of news from home and the way Tony was clearly avoiding your presence, were curious to know who would be chosen.

The Goblet of Fire had been moved to the center of the main hall and you joined the Hufflepuff table with Mantis, noticing the warning look that Headmistress Okoye cast at anyone who was not behaving in the most chivalrous manner possible, but you didn't remark on it, noticing the wizards wearing formal attire at the teachers' table, probably being employees of the Ministry of Magic and reporters for the Daily Prophet.

A characteristic buzz was going on among the students, but the room fell silent as the students from the other schools entered the hall together with their principals.

When Headmistress Agatha began the selection ceremony, everyone seemed to hold their breath.

"[...] Tonight the goblet will choose the one who is worthy to represent their schools in the triwizard tournament. The ceremony of choice begins now." She gracefully presents, wand in hand. Agatha touches the tip of the goblet next, and the flame on the top changes to red briefly, expelling a piece of parchment through the air. Agatha catches the item between her fingers. "The champion of Durmstrang is Jean Grey."

The room erupts in applause and tears of celebration. You clap happily too, completely forgetting about that day in the hall. You knew that Jean had become quite popular among the Hogwarts gossips, especially since she is already a celebrity, so the reaction of your classmates was not a surprise to you.

You and the rest of the students watched as she accepted the parchment from Agatha before greeting the ministry wizards, and then walked into the small door behind the teachers' desk. As she left, everyone was silent again.

Principal Harkness repeated the wand movement on the goblet, and the flames turned blue again. She paused briefly before announcing the next champion.

"Beauxbatons' champion is Maria Hill!" 

You watch a very elegant girl get up from one of the front seats and walk in the same direction as Jean amidst the applause. The commotion is a little less than Grey's, but you know that it is only because Grey was famous.

A moment later it is the turn of the Hogwarts champion, and you are much more excited for this.

Agatha also seems more excited about this, a small smile escaping her lips before she repeats the wand movement.

When the parchment falls into her hands, she reads it aloud.

"The champion of Hogwarts..." She begins and her expression falls, her frown frowning. The brief suspense only makes everyone even more anxious. "Wanda Maximoff."

The crowd's reaction is remarkably different from the other champions; the hall explodes into a buzz of accusations of cheating, pointing out that Wanda was underage, and even snide remarks about a Slytherin representing the school, but you were barely listening. A wave of preoccupation takes over your body completely, and you look around the table for Wanda, but she is already standing up, her chin held high despite all the negative comments. She accepts the parchment Agatha hands her and heads in the same direction as the other champions. 

Harkness makes another movement with her wand and the flame from the goblet goes out. In the next second she is leaving the room, being escorted by the other directors and the ministry officials to the Hall of Champions. As soon as the door closes, the hall explodes in agitated hubbub, and many people stand up.

As the teachers call for calm, especially for the Gryffindor students who accuse the Slytherin of cheating, you and Mantis stand up and join your friends.

"I can't believe that just happened." Gamora comments as soon as you reach her, as impressed as she is concerned.

Your gaze searches for Pietro however, and he looks upset.

"Comrade, your sister is the champion of Hogwarts! She managed to do what we were trying to! Why the long face?" Quill asked his friend excited and confused, but when he went to hug Pietro, he pulled away, an angry grimace on his face.

"I can't believe Wanda kept this from me." He grumbled, you and your friends looked at him in surprise. 

"Come on Pietro, maybe she didn't think it would work and didn't want to say anything." Quill suggested but the boy shook his head.

"No you don't get it." He retorts. "She absolutely could not have risked doing something like that."

And then he turns away, and heads for the teachers' table. You and your friends are left with puzzled expressions, but upon noticing that he looked like he was going to be talking to his father for quite some time, you return to your conversation.

"I can't believe Wanda didn't tell anyone about putting in the name on the goblet, that's incredible." Quill adds. Nebula begins to argue how dangerous it was for someone without enough magical acquaintance to be in such an ordeal, and your stomach does a turn. You walk away from the conversation, heading toward the group of Tony's friends who were standing a few feet away from you.

"Hey, your friend just caused a stir around here." Tony jokes as soon as you reach him.

"I noticed it." You retort as you spot Professor Strange separating with a spell a student who jumped on top of another. "Everyone is talking about how dangerous it is for her to participate, can you tell me anything good about it?"

Tony laughs at the desperation in your voice. 

"I figure eternal glory and the thousand-gallon prize is the good part." He teases, and you run your hands through your hair, trying to ignore the urge to go into that little room and find out if Wanda is okay. Tony assumes a serious expression next, and lowers his tone, not that it was necessary, since everyone seems wrapped up in their own conversations. "You also find it strange that this happens after what happened at the cup, don't you?" He asks and you nod. Tony sighs. "Maybe this is a good time for you to talk to Wanda, little sis. About how you feel about her. And well, maybe as you help her practice for the tournament, you guys can figure out what that connection means."

You nod, feeling your cheeks warm. It was still strange how all your friends knew about the way you cared for Wanda.

You wanted to ask Tony if he had found out anything since you last talked properly, but Professor Strange ordered everyone back to their dormitories the next moment, and after Tony messed up your hair, you turned and headed toward the Hufflepuff students who were leaving the hall.

//-//

There was no way you could sleep without talking to Wanda, so you risked an detention by sneaking out of the dorm after curfew. Mantis grumbled at you to be careful before turning over in her sleepy state, making you laugh softly.

You used a simple invisibility spell on yourself, not so strong that you were completely invisible, but enough to blend into the shadows of the castle as you descended back into the dungeons. Hogwarts was, yes, very scary at that time.

The board at the entrance was sleeping, and after removing the invisibility spell, you poked it with your wand to wake it up.

"What, what is that?" Complained the irritated painting, looking around and acquiring an angry expression when he noticed you.

"I'm sorry. Keep your voice down please." You asked. "I need to get inside."

The painting looked at you suspiciously.

"I have seen you here before, but you are not from the honorable house of Slytherin."

"That is not your problem, Mr. Talos." You retort impatiently. "Just let me in. The password is Polyjuice Potion."

"Your friends will get in trouble if they keep sharing their password with you." Warned the painting before moving, giving you passage to enter.

"Thank you, Mr.Talos." You said with slight irony, walking into the dormitory.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked around at the empty environment. You were used to the place, but it was still creepy when poorly lit like this.

"We don't like intruders." Spoke a voice in the corner of the room, making you jump in fright.

"Damn, Nat, you scared the hell out of me." You complained, putting your hand to your chest and feeling your heart racing. The girl giggled, closing the book in her hand and standing up in your direction.

"Why are you here?" she asked with her arms crossed.

You gave her a lopsided smile.

"I came to check on Wanda, of course."

Nat narrowed her eyes at you.

"Why?"

"Why?" you retort after a short laugh. "Because she has just been chosen for the deadliest competition in the wizarding world, and everyone in this place wants to remind me of it!" You exclaim, and can't stop yourself. "I heard a girl say in the hallway that the tournament was banned for the number of deaths! Did you know that? Yeah, neither did I. And well, I can't sleep, because I keep thinking that something like that might happen to Wanda. And when I think about it, I can't breathe and I..."

"Stark, breathe!" Natasha interrupts you with concern, placing her hands on your shoulders. You gasp slightly, realizing that your eyes are filled with tears as you notice your vision blurring. You sigh, trying to normalize your breathing as you force a smile and wipe your face. "God, what was that all about?"

"It was nothing." You grumble. "I'm just worried."

Natasha doesn't buy your excuse, though.

"Tony told me about what happened in the cup." She says as she lowers her arms. You look at her in surprise. "He also told me about how connected to Wanda you have been feeling. I just didn't imagine that you would almost have a little tantrum at the possibility of her getting hurt."

You feel your cheeks flush, looking away to your shoes.

"I didn't have a tantrum."

"Nearly." She teases, but you don't laugh, feeling your stomach churn. Nat looks at you seriously next. "Wanda's not here."

You raise your head in surprise.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know." She replies. "Believe me, you weren't the only one who tried to talk to her. The whole dorm was wanting to know how she tricked the goblet, but no one has seen her since the selection."

You feel your heart soar, and seeing the way you react, Nat raises a hand to your arm again.

"Hey, try not to think about it so much." She says. "Maybe she's with her father. I imagine it's been quite a commotion that a minor has swindled the goblet, and the ministry must be trying to decide what to do. She must be in the teachers' dormitory, she is still a child after all."

"Wanda is already fifteen." You grumble.

"Yes, and I'm sixteen. We're all kids, Y/N." She retorts. "I don't think Professor Lehnsherr was going to leave his daughter alone at such a time."

You sigh, nodding in agreement.

"Try to get some sleep, will you?" Nat asks next. "I'm sure Wanda will talk to you tomorrow. And well, I think she's going to need her best friend to not sleep through the conversation."

"Wanda said I'm her best friend?" 

Nat laughs at the way you talk, probably sounding like a lovesick puppy. 

"God, you two are a disaster." She comments before waving you toward the exit. You bid her goodnight and thank her before walking back to your dorm.

//-//

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is. 

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative. 

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency. 

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him. 

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine. 

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.