#( I dunno why I was feeling eh-ish )

[revasserium]

Hey, can I request zoro x reader (established relationship) where the Strawhats end up going to reader’s home island (unknown to anyone in the group aside from reader), and the reader is super nervous and refuses to leave the boat, so the crew goes out and walk around and they find a missing/wanted poster of the reader and find out she’s a run away princess that needed to be. Later they coke to find out that reader ran away cause her parents and the servants mistreated and was about to marry her off to a violent prince

opla requests are: open

lips on every cross

opla!zoro; 5,989 words; fem!reader, semi-established?? relationship, posessive!zoro, strawhat!reader, no "y/n", reader gets kidnapped, fluff and angst, very brief! mentions of past familial abuse and trauma, nicknames ("Princess"), slow-ish burn???, more plot than not

summary: zoro has never thought himself a holy man. but he'd kiss every cross if it meant finding his way back to you.

a/n: idk why every opla fic i write is like... more plot than i bargained for but here we are. literally, this fic was just supposed to be "zoro calls the reader 'princess'".

01. when love arrives

(“Hey Princess —“)

The nickname starts, as almost all things do on the Going Merry, as a joke. And, as with most jokes made amongst the rag-tag crew, it sticks. He’d said it because he’s sure you’d mentioned your name once or twice already, but he’d been napping or eating and he didn’t feel like looking like an asshole right that moment.

The ribbon in your hair had caught the light in just the right way, pale pink satin — such a strange, soft color amidst the careening, careless ocean, and the word just… slipped.

“Why’dyou call her that?” Luffy asks, lounging back against the main mast as Zoro works through the umpteenth rep of single-armed pushups.

Zoro puffs out a breath and switches arms.

“Dunno. Seemed like it fit.”

Luffy slates you a long glance, blinking owlishly.

“Really? Eh — I guess… well, she is really pretty.”

Zoro only grunts, jumping up and stretching both arms over his head with a long, steady breath. His eyes flicker towards you as well, laughing with Nami on the foredeck, sipping on cocktails, Sanji probably simping somewhere nearby.

He thinks back to where they’d found you, hood pulled low over your eyes, the tell-tale signs of distress carved into every line of your body, from the curve of your spine to the bend of your shoulders.

Luffy hadn’t asked questions, so Zoro hadn’t either.

Curiosity, the fatal flaw that runs so sharp and obvious through the entirety of Luffy’s being, hasn’t always been rewarded well in Zoro’s experience. And he’s learned by now that “truth will out”, or so they say.

(“C’mon, Princess, I thought you said you could drink.”)

Caution, on the other hand, is Zoro’s oldest friend. You are cautious, if nothing else, and the first time he sees you relax in his presence, he wonders to himself if there’s a drug in this world strong enough to induce this feeling.

Later, he would learn that this is simply called falling in love.

He isn’t the only one who notices how you casually dip a silver fork or knife into every single drink before you take a sip, or that sometimes, you blurt out the word “no’ like a promise to yourself, and “sorry” like a plea for help.

And he’s spent long enough being a hunter to know what being hunted looks like. So he doesn’t ask, and you don’t answer, and somehow, you still manage to make yourself a home in the dark caverns of his chest, curling up there till he can’t count his heartbeats without it sounding like the shadow of your name on the midnight wind.

02. a study of light and dark

The drinking game starts off innocently enough (and don’t they always), but it takes half a round for the questions and subsequent answers to devolve into loud laughter and debauchery, delirium and debasement.

“Alright, alright —“ Sanji holds up a hand, tossing back his shot to raucous cheers, “worst thing you’ve done in a closet. Go —“

Zoro rolls his eyes and takes the shot, foregoing his answer. Nami simply grins, catlike, swirling her own drink around her glass.

“In your wildest dreams, cook,” she says before taking her shot as well. Sanji lets out a contemplative whistle, followed by a good-natured wink.

“Define worst, cause… I mean, I’ve puked in like… most of them back in Syrup Village,” Usopp says. Sanji only chuckles, shrugging.

“We’ll take it, we’ll take it.”

Luffy hums, frowning for a second before smacking a fist into his open palm, grinning, “I took a nap!”

Everyone laughs, helpless and buoyed up by the casual effervescence of a night like this — when the moon is dark and the stars are bright and thin wisps of silver clouds mar the sky like tendrils of lost daydreams, caught on the wrong side of sunset.

When the laughter settles down, everyone turns to you.

You purse your lips, feeling the weight of your answer pressing down on the tip of your tongue — I hid. And I waited. And I tried not to listen.

As the silence stretches on, Zoro leans forward and uncrosses his arms, reaching out to nudge a full shot glass towards you.

“Times up, Princess — drink,” and though there’s nothing soft or even forgiving in his voice, but you feel yourself relax as everyone boos and you take your shot.

The heat of Zoro’s gaze only lingers on your skin for a moment longer before he leans back again, that familiar almost-grin tugging lazily at his lips as he turns half-lidded eyes towards the rest of his crew.

(“Talk to me, Princess.”)

When you find him later, fumbling in the dark of the hallway just outside his room, you kiss him without saying “thank you” and he doesn’t question it when, pressed beneath him on the rough linen of his sheets, you ask to keep the lights on.

03. etymology

Princess — it’s a nice word, Zoro muses to himself. The light pop of the ‘p’ rolling into the warm, round ‘r’, thinning out into the sensual layering of the double ‘s’s, till you’re left with nothing but a hiss, a shadow, a memory.

It’s a regal word; a pretty word. Though its origins might be anything but.

From the Latin primus “first” and cept “catcher”, or so Robin had told him over the pages of an ancient book he hadn’t bothered to ask the name of, because Princes and Kings have always obtained their powers through taking, and never asking. Reaping, and never sowing.

Zoro thinks then that this, too, is a form conquest — you over him. The totality of your power stunning to behold, if only because he has to let you take it in the first place. And he does so willingly.

He wonders if you, too, are as multifaceted as his nickname for you — delicacy and desire wrapped around a darker something, lace laid over a knife’s unforgiving edge.

The first time he dares to kiss you, he feels you kissing him back, the sharp canines of your teeth catching on his lower lip, drawing out a soft grunt from him. You’d paused, and then you’d bitten down harder just to hear him gasp into your mouth.

He knew then, without ever having to ask, that you are.

04. tip of the iceberg

It is winter when they arrive — but then again, it is always winter here. Here, the cold runs so deep it drives frost crystals into the marrow of your bones. Here, the wind howls like a wounded animal and the night falls with a savage, carnal vengeance, all black velvet and a blood-tinted moon.

Here, the snow storms turn living, breathing heroes into song lyrics and poetry rhymes.

You inhale a single breath before turning and heading back below deck.

Zoro frowns, and at a single look from Luffy, he follows you beneath, only to find you rummaging around the kitchen, tugging a bottle of moonshine out from under the sink.

“Whoa,” Zoro says, reaching out to stop you from uncorking the bottle, an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t miss the way you shiver, “bit early, isn’t it?”

“Bit rich, coming from you,” you snap, eyes sharp, voice stinging.

Zoro only cocks his other eyebrow in tandem and pulls the bottle from your hands before turning and grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. He takes his time filling them both with ice, and then pouring a finger into each glass.

You don’t meet his eyes as you reach out for your glass, but he catches your wrist.

“A drink for an answer,” he says.

You pause, your lips pressed into a thin, white line. And he knows it’s unfair, to turn this game around on you, because he can tell from the hard set of your shoulders that this is so much more than a drinking game but if this is what it takes to get the truth — then so be it.

“Fine,” you say, glancing away, voice clipped.

You move to take a sip, but Zoro pushes down your hand again.

“No lying.”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes, “Obviously.”

He eases off, picking up his own glass and clinking it against yours before taking a light swig, “You know this place.”

This time, you’re the one who turns around with a cocked brow.

“Got a question in there somewhere?”

Zoro’s lips twitch, “Yes, or no.”

You sigh, tapping a finger against the edge of your cup, “Yes.”

Zoro hums, “Your turn.”

You chew on your lips before taking a sip, “Why do you care so much?”

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Stupid question. Next.”

You huff, “That’s not how this game goes.”

Zoro swirls his glass before setting it down on the counter with a loud clack, “Because I care about you.”

You pause with your own drink halfway to your mouth and look up. Zoro doesn’t shy away from meeting your gaze and for a moment, time statics to a halt around you.

Then, Zoro sighs, unclenching his jaw as he attempts a lopsided smile.

“Hey, talk to me,” he reaches out to trail a finger along the high of your cheekbones, up to the shell of your ear.

The ‘please’ hangs silent in the air between you; the ‘Princess’ is implied.

And for the first time, he thinks he sees you flinch. He makes to pull back but you tug his hand forward, pressing your cheek against his palm.

“This island,” you say, finally, the tremor in your voice like a hairline fracture snaking through a porcelain vase, “it’s… well, it used to be… my home.”

05. the secret history

It is the most beautiful place any of them have ever been.

The castle is made entirely of ice, the cold winter sun refracting the light into a million and one unseen colors. Giant ice-carved sculptures dot the crystal-flower gardens, and it takes them all a few minutes to realize that the gorgeous, delicate blooms are made of glass, blown and shaped to mirror real-life snowflakes — each unique, glittering, and eternal.

“Dude… how long do you think all this took to make?” Usopp asks, his head turning as if on a swivel, his jaw hinging off his face in awe.

Robin sighs, “Too long, perhaps.”

Zoro stays quiet, and beside him, so does Nami.

You’d insisted on staying back, to guard the ship, you’d said. But the space you usually fill in the group hangs solid in the air, a gaping hole of lack when there should be none.

Luffy hums and he marches out in front of them, ever the dubious, fearless leader. Though most of the crew has now come to terms with the fact that “courage” and “sheer bull-headedness” are often two sides of the same coin for him.

It’s Sanji who pauses first, causing Chopper to ram into the back of his knees.

“Ouch! What’dyou do that f —”

“Look,” Sanji says, pointing at a poster pasted to the slick outer wall of the castle gates.

And they do, leaning in, crowding too close. Zoro grunts as Chopper jumps and scrambles up his back to peer over his shoulder at the face plastered on the dew-soaked poster, the words LOST PRINCESS: 120,000,000 FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT LEADS TO HER WHEREABOUTS printed in giant, familiar block letters along the bottom.

Beside him, Zoro can feel Nami swallowing. Hard.

“A hundred and twenty million berry…” she murmurs, her breath going shallow as they all stare, dumbfounded at the poster of what is unmistakably you.

You, with your exquisite features schooled into something like solemnity, your usually wind-swept hair twisted up into a tight braid across the crown of your head, a diadem of ice-white silver and light-cut jewels jutting up from your severe updo like so many broken teeth, sharp and unforgiving as stalagmites.

If none of them had known, it’d be impossible to reconcile you with this cold, distant portrait, your eyes rendered lifeless and dull by the depthless black ink.

Luffy, however, only blinks and turns to stare at Zoro.

“Did you know?”

“What?”

Luffy continues to stare, “When I asked why you always call her ‘Princess’.”

Zoro sighs, turning his eyes back to the WANTED poster before shaking his head.

“No. Like I said… I thought it just… fit.”

06. eternal day

Zoro is itching to get back to the ship. There’s a fish-line sliver of worry tugging at the place behind his chest where his heart should be, and he knows implicitly that something is wrong.

“Don’t worry, she can take care of herself!” Luffy says, smiling bright, his confidence unwavering.

“No Luffy, Zoro’s right — someone should be with her. What if —” and here, Nami glances at Zoro before turning her attention back to Luffy, “— she might need the backup,” is what she finally settles with. And to Zoro’s great relief, Luffy agrees.

And then, to everyone’s horror, off in the distance, your voice rises over the wind in a blood-curdling scream.

07. endless night

By the time Zoro makes it back to the ship, you are already gone.

08. torn asunder

Gone, gone, gone. The word echoes like an ill-fated alarm bell, ringing through Zoro’s entire body as he catapults himself through the ship, slamming open every door, checking every nook, corner, and crevice. Signs of a struggle, that much is clear, scuffs on the freshly waxed planks of the aft deck, nail marks along the railings, and —

Zoro’s breath freezes in his chest.

A smear of blood that drips over the side of the ship, trailing down the ladder.

A flash of pale pink catches his eye.

Your satin hair ribbon lies abandoned on the wharfs’ boardwalk, the faintest splatter of red soaking its ends.

He picks it up between gentle fingers and tucks it deep into his pocket.

His vision blurs red as he thinks about the things your captors might’ve done to you before dragging you off. He’s seen you fight and it wouldn’t have been easy to bring you down.

And by the time the rest of the crew reach him, he’s already sprinting back towards the castle, his jaw set, his teeth gritted.

It takes the combined effort of Sanji, Luffy, and Robin to stop him from charging through the castle gates and tearing the whole place down.

“Runnin’ round like a headless chicken’s not gonna do her any good, mate,” Sanji says, a smoke already caught between his teeth. A pre-fight ritual of his.

Zoro jerks his arm out of Sanji’s grasp, stalking down the street with a huff.

Robin strolls after him, somehow keeping pace, looking unhurried as Zoro tamps down the blind urge to slash the entire island in half.

“We’ll find her,” Robin says, her voice level, even as her sharp eyes scan the white-specked horizon, the usually amused half-twist of her lips laid flat by worry, “and she’s stronger than you think.”

At this, Zoro whips around, “I know —” but he bites down the venom threatening to surge up the back of his throat with a sigh. Robin doesn’t flinch, and Zoro attempts a steadying breath before repeating himself in a slightly softer tone, “I know… I’m just…”

Robin nods, and Zoro is thankful that he doesn’t have to finish his sentence.

09. the tower and the throne

The cold greets you like a scorned lover— a spiteful, savage mistress. Tendrils of frost creep along the walls of your old bedroom to caress your cheeks. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, sitting on familiar satin sheets.

“Dinner is soon, darling,” your mother’s cool voice calls from outside your bedroom door, “and make yourself presentable — we’ve got guests.”

The sadistic lilt of her voice as she says the word ‘guests’ makes you jerk your head up, staring at the door as if you might be able to bore through the thick wood with nothing but your eyes. And, almost as if she can feel you staring, you hear your mother’s cold, tinkling laughter.

“Hurry now… I had your favorite dress put out for you. It should still fit — and we don’t want to keep them… waiting.”

The slow, sanguine pause before her last word makes you want to rip out your hair and scream into the wind till your voice gives out.

Instead, you push yourself up and reach for the dress laid out at the foot of your bed with shaking fingers.

The dress fits you like a second skin, the delicate lace trim barely sweeping the floor as you adjust the bodice, grimacing at your reflection in the large, floor-length mirror. It is as if the last ten months had never happened, as if you’d never escaped this terrifying hellscape of a winter wonderland. As if you’d simply dreamed every single sun-filled afternoon, every star-strewn night spent laughing and singing amongst your new-found crew.

Here, in the fragile glass reflection, you are once again a girl trapped behind her own ribcage, with a destiny carved into stone and ice, with no hope of summer in sight. You take a long breath and tighten the ribbons of your dress.

You are still and silent as the maid slips in through the door after a single knock and begins to twist up your hair. Tighter and tighter, till it sets your teeth on edge. When she pins the crown in place, it takes everything inside you not to fall apart, to shatter at the weight, the sight of it sitting on your head. You swallow as the maid dips her head and backs out of the room with a murmured dinner is served, Princess.

For the first time, you wince openly at her words.

10. waiting for the rain

The hall is just how you remembered it, huge and cavernous, gaping like the empty maw of some petrified monster, the ceiling hanging with so many cold, sparkling chandeliers, ice-carved statues jutting up from the floors like teeth.

You’re marched in like a show animal, the great marble doors swinging open before you as you step forward and feel your breath freeze in your chest.

There, strung up on a massive statue of some long-forgotten saint, is Zoro, cuts and bruises marring his already scarred and puckered torso. But he smirks as he sees you come in, his eyes bright as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the seemingly endless white floors. Around him, the rest of your crew sits, tied and slumped over in chairs like so many sleeping mannequins.

“Hey there, Princess. Just in time for dinner.”

You nearly wince at the raspiness in his voice, the faint trickle of blood that leaks out the corner of his mouth.

“Silence,” your father’s voice echoes out from the high-backed chair at the head of the ludicrously long table. You don’t have to see to know his face is as smooth as just-applied plaster. But Zoro only has eyes for you — and he continues to talk as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

“If you’d told us we’d be welcomed like this, we might’ve packed differently.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you almost taste the metallic tang of blood.

“Our daughter has always been a skillful liar — though it’s a habit we tried to… rid her of in her youth. The lesson never seemed to have stuck.” Your mother this time. And now, you can see the muscle ticking in Zoro’s jaw as he scoffs.

“Really? And here I always thought she was shit at lying.”

You swallow down a whimper as the maid wordlessly leads you to the far end of the table, where Zoro is still tied. You drop into the seat between a snoring Luffy and an eerily still Nami, and it’s all you can do not to turn around and retch onto the silk embroidered rug.

“Be that as it may…” your mother’s voice drops a few degrees — an admirable feat, as her voice is usually just on the other side of frigid, “it’s bad luck to kill on the eve of a royal wedding.”

At this, Zoro’s head snaps around and you shrink back in your chair, your eyes fixed on your fists, clenched in your lap.

“Mother,” you grind out, finally forcing your head up so as to meet her piercing, blizzard-bright gaze, “I’ve told you, I’ve no intention of getting married. At least not to the mongrel you’ve decided to set me up with.”

You spit out the last sentence, trying to remember all the snark, all the confidence that’d built up inside you over the past weeks and months. Away from this dreaded castle and on the sun-soaked bow of the Going Merry, it was the first time you’d begun to discover who you are — the things you liked, the ways of life that you yearned for.

Your father slams a hand on the table at the same moment that Zoro lets out a bark of laughter.

“Insolence!”

“Damn, Princess — you never told me you could bite.”

And, to your horror and perhaps deep-seated pleasure, a blush works its way into your cheeks at Zoro’s words. Your eyes snap towards him, catching his gaze as he smirks at you. And even though his shirt is slashed, his sword hilts hanging woefully empty at this hip, his hands twisted painfully behind him on the statue, he still manages an easy, condescending air.

You seize at this tiny tendril of normalcy as you force a wane smile.

“I might be persuaded to do more than that… if you ask nicely.”

Zoro’s snicker is drowned out by your mother’s sharp gasp. But you don’t look away, holding Zoro’s gaze for as long as you dare — in it, you find an entire abyss of barely concealed rage (and is that… amusement?), his entire body straining against the shackles that hold him. Then, his eyes slip from you to a point just over your shoulder.

It’s then that you realize: Luffy’s not snoring anymore.

11. to reap and to sow

You’re never quite certain of how the Merry’s crew seems to always just wriggle out of frankly gruesome and untimely deaths, but here you are, racing for the docks like your lives depended on it. Because, well, it kind of does.

“Remind me —” you shout between pants, one hand clutched firmly in Zoro’s, the other doing its best to lift the ridiculous dinner dress they’d put you in — a confection of lace and tulle, the bodice laced with pale pink satin ribbon, “how the hell did you guys manage to trick my parents into thinking you’d eaten the spiked food?”

Sanji flashes you a toothy grin, “Ah love… you know how it is — ask us no questions, and we’ll tell you no lies!”

Luffy, however, whoops as he launches himself from a pair of solid brick buildings, catapulting himself over your sprinting crew.

“We just — pretended to eat! I mean — I did kinda actually eat a bit — but — it wasn’t that bad!”

You resist the urge to pinch your nose bridge at the nonchalance with which Luffy is talking about consuming poisoned food, but you’ve only got two hands and both are equally occupied at the moment. You settle for an exasperated sigh.

“That was — really stupid! — What if — they’d — poisoned the food — with something — other than — sleeping medicine?!” you ask, forcing air into your lungs as finally, you all round the bend onto the bustling pier, the Going Merry’s unmistakable shape silhouetted against the misty horizon.

“We can talk when — we’re all back — on the ship!” Nami calls as she sprints passed you, reaching out a hand for Luffy, who’s elongated arm grabs her and slings her onto the deck of the ship. You barely have a second to breathe before Zoro’s arm loops around your waist and you’re being pulled tight into his side.

His breath is hot against your collarbone as he smirks, “Hold on tight, Princess.”

It’s all you can do to listen as you’re suddenly whipped through the air like a doll on a drunken marionette’s string. A bright peal of Luffy-tinted laughter later, you thud onto the deck of the Going Merry, the breath knocked clean from your lungs as the world spins and spins. You’d expected to hit solid wood, or maybe even the railing or the mast but —

Zoro groans beneath you, and it takes you a long second to realize that he’d cushioned your fall, your bodies pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders, his still steady around your waist.

“O-oh! Sorry —” you try to pull away but Zoro’s grip on you only tightens.

You freeze as he blinks up at you, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Crown’s crooked,” Zoro finally says, that tell-tale smirk twisting the edge of his lips as his gaze flickers upwards. Your hand jumps to the crown, somehow still clipped into your now disheveled hair, lopping to one side as the braids start to come loose. You purse your lips.

“I never liked it anyway…” You make to tug it out but Zoro reaches up to right it, though he lets his hand linger as he falls along the side of your face.

“Nah, looks good on you.” His voice is so low, and suddenly, air is such a language that you’re certain you’d forgotten how to speak. Slowly, he pushes up till you’re both sitting, you still pressed against him and him still pressed against you. Distantly, you can hear shouting, Usopp’s voice raised high over the wind as the Merry careens out of port and towards the open sea.

But strangely, no one makes to pull you away from him, or him from you.

“I should’ve told you guys…” you say, eyes casting down as you rest your palms against his chest. Beneath it, you can feel his heart — pounding, pounding, pounding. There’s a light sheen of sweat glimmering on his honeyed skin as you swallow, looking back up even as he chuckles.

“Sure, but we should’ve asked.”

You bite your lips, “I think you did.”

Zoro grins, shrugging as he helps you up, somehow managing to keep his arm slipped around your waist.

“Well. Should’ve asked better, then.”

12. lost stars

It takes you a while to tell them the story — the real story, the whole story. And there’s drinking involved, but it’s mostly just you clutching at your half-filled glass, Zoro’s knee pressed comfortingly against yours, even though his eyes are closed, his head leaned back, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

You tell them about the dark underbelly of royalty that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about — the blood and teeth beneath the silk and silver. You tell them about being raised a bargaining chip, of being sold and promised like a prized heifer on auction day.

You tell them about the moonless nights when the only thing you had to keep you company was the cold, about the “lessons” your mother would teach you, about how the maids would be instructed to hide the bruises just so, about the Prince who you were set to marry and the rumors that plagued his castle —

“They say that he’d take the prettiest girls from the surrounding town as his maids and that none of them ever walked out of his castle again,” you say. The moonshine burns on its way down your throat as you finish your drink.

Wordlessly, Zoro reaches over to pluck the glass from your hand and set it on the table. It’s only then that you realize your fingers are white and trembling.

“Did he hurt you?”

Zoro’s voice is not loud, but everyone turns to look at him. You shake your head, clasping your hands in your lap.

“No. I only ever… met him once, at a dinner party. It was after that that I… ran away.”

Zoro hums, leaning back again, “Good.”

Across the room, Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings and frowns.

“Were you about to offer to hunt him down?” Robin asks, sounding amused.

Zoro shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered — would’ve just done it.”

“He sounds like the kinda guy we should hunt down anyway, no?” Luffy asks, cocking his head as he looks back at you, “I mean, I’m glad he never hurt you but… he’s still hurting people!”

“Luffy’s got a point,” Sanji says, stubbing out his cigarette.

“For once, I agree with Sanji,” Nami says.

There’s a light squabble during which Sanji makes an aggrieved noise and Nami rolls her eyes, and then everyone is laughing and chatting and more drinks are being poured. Next to you, Zoro reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist again. It’s something he’s been doing more lately, and you can’t honestly say that you mind it much at all.

“We don’t have to,” he says, leaning forward, almost as if to brush his lips by your ear, “if… if you don’t want to.”

You shiver at the base rumble of his voice, at the way his eyes are so warm and full of some uncertain promise.

“No, I… I do want to. It’s just…”

Zoro’s fingers trace small, absent-minded circles into the skin of your waist and you fight down another shiver.

“I don’t plan on letting you get kidnapped again, Princess.”

Your gaze snaps up to meet Zoro’s, and there’s a faint smile kissing the line of his lips. And suddenly, the lightness of his touch doesn’t feel so thoughtless as heat curls out from the place where his palm meets your skin, radiating out till you’re breathless with it.

“Oh?”

“Never liked people trying to take what’s mine.”

And the dark possessiveness with which he says mine leaves little room for interpretation, even as you lick your lips and try to think of something witty to say.

“I don’t remember agreeing to be yours.”

It’s the best you can come up with; Zoro’s only response is a soft, contemplative grunt.

“What’s that saying? ‘Actions speak louder than words’?” he flashes you a satisfied grin as you narrow your eyes at him, swatting at his chest as he laughs.

“I meant it though,” he says, a moment later, as the rest of the crew all chatter around you, “about calling it off if you don’t want to. But…” he reaches up a free hand to tug a strand of your hair free from the ponytail it’s tied up in.

“Figured you might sleep better at night knowing he’s gone.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, your whole body softening as you lean into him, pressing your palms to his chest as he looks at you.

“Yeah… I think I might. And… like you said… it’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped again.”

You smile, letting your eyes flicker down to Zoro’s lips. His smile is pleased and just a little jagged as he tugs you up by the hand and the pair of you slip from the room.

Above deck, the sun is setting, and the warm, slanted light casts the entire ship in a glaze of gold that looks almost gilded. You lean against the railings, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin, chasing away the chill that’d been lingering at your fingertips since you’d all made your spectacular escape from your home island.

You feel rather than hear Zoro join you. You take your time breathing in the salty tang of the humid sea air before opening your eyes and slating him a side-long look.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“For coming after me.”

Zoro scoffs, turning away from the roiling waves to lean back against the railings, his head cocked as he looks you over.

“Like I said… I don’t like it when people try to take what’s mine.”

But this time, you laugh, nodding, “So you’ve said. But still… thanks.”

“Hn.”

Zoro closes his eyes, seemingly enjoying the last vestiges of the setting sun as it sinks ever-lower along the horizon. Then, he opens one eye to peer at you.

“Though I’ve been meaning to ask —”

“Hm?”

“What’s this about doing more than biting… if asked about it nicely enough?”

You try to duck your head but Zoro catches your chin in his fingers.

“I — I just… knew it would piss off my mother if she —”

“Mm, sounded like more than that to me.”

Your breath hitches as Zoro’s thumb traces a rough line along your bottom lip.

“How about… I show you?” and the offer is barely out of your mouth before Zoro is kissing you, his mouth seeking out yours with a soft groan that betrays all the lightness in his touch as he trails his free hand down your arm to pull hard at your waist.

And it’s not the first time you’ve kissed. It’s not even the first time a kiss with Zoro has become more than just a kiss, though you’d always been careful before to make sure that he knew (though thinking back, it might’ve just been an ill-fated attempt at lying to yourself) that the pleasure shared between bodies was just that — pleasure and bodies.

But this — this kiss becomes, and becomes.

It becomes breath and heartbeats, pleasure and heat. It becomes truth and promises and the tantalizing taste of fairy-tale endings.

“Z-Zoro…”

“Yes Princess?”

You hiss as his teeth grazes along your pulse point and your fingers fist in his hair.

“Y’know…” your voice comes out as nothing more than a soft pant as Zoro tugs you over to one of the reclining chairs beneath the orange trees and pulls you over his hips, “I’ve never liked being called that but…”

“But?” his thumbs inch beneath the material of your shirt, circling your hipbones as he smirks up at you.

“I don’t mind it when it’s you.”

Zoro’s grin goes wide and wolfish. Above him, the first stars spark into being as the sun finally sinks beyond the far horizon. For a second, his smile softens as he reaches up to toy with the end of the pale pink ribbon in your hair. Then, he gives it a single, solid tug, and your hair falls open around your shoulders, tumbling down in waves.

Zoro leans up to press a light kiss to the blood-stained satin before letting it flutter off in the wind, twisting into the rapidly darkening night.

“Good… cause I ain’t about to let anyone else call you that either.”

[evilminji]

Okay, but... now I'm wondering >.>

@the-witchhunter We talked about Danny being Morningstar's feral, probably engineering oils and ectoplasmic goo covered, mad scientist/himbo hybrid (attack) purse dog. His special lil guy.

But!

I seek your Knowledge(TM).

From second hand accounts? He seems to HATE the hypocrisy. The blaming HIM for humanity's own choices. The rat race and endless song n dance of "Righteous Good VS. Cartoonish Evil". Because it let's humanity paint themselves the helpless victims. Because it's all surface level. Because it is not so easy to escape the ugliness of your Sins, yet they keep trying to scapegoat him.

Fuck um.

He was tired of it.

But? He still has CONSIDERABLE POWER. It's probably written down. And the Ring Of Rage? Is proooobably not the loveliest of artifacts? I imagine, like the Crown, it's NOT leaving Danny alone. One of those "we don't CARE if there is no throne left to sit upon, you WILL wear us, as King" sort of systems.

It genuinely would not and DOES NOT matter, if not a single soul in all the Zone bows to him. Did he defeat the previous holder of their Right To Rulership? Yes or No.

If No, fuck off.

If Yes, new monarch.

Is it hurting him? Not the rings problem. Nor the Crown's. Heavy is the weight, etc etc. But! DANNY would certainly care. He is... is ANGRY all the time now. Has no idea who would even MAKE this bullshit ring. Why JUST Rage? Yeah, it makes ghosts stronger, but at what COST?

He can't even get rid of it!

......by himself.

Luckily, he's still clear headed enough to know that he's NOT in this by himself. And it's amazing what "mom, dad, this ring is trying to drive me insane. Help me" in a terrified and tearful voice, can brush over. No one threatens their baby and all that.

It would honestly be hilarious, seeing the extended Fenton clan decend like LOCUSTS on Pariahs Keep, searching for clues, terrifying the local ghosts, if... if he wasn't so tired.

God he's so tired.

It's Aunt Alecia who... "politely encourages" a passing scholar to lend them the book they need. Took the poor sucker right out of the sky. Guy never stood a chance. RIP.

He learns he has to head..... over? Like... 27 that-ish way, then up. Huh. 27 WHAT?

Realities, apparently. He's in the wrong bundle. Branch? Neighborhood? Eh. Clan Fenton rolls back out, he packs his bags, and hilariously enough? Goes off to the devils night club. Hopes he likes rings. Or hates them.

Thankfully, being "king" means the Zone? Kinda... humors him? Like... it still has RULES(tm). He can... can FEEL that now. But it's willing to bend some for him, if he asks. And anything NOT against the rules? If it's in the right mood? He need only ask. It's weird. Being suddenly so powerful, yet NOT, at the same time.

Cause none of it's his.

All he has is the Zone's attention. The ability to ask pretty please. If you don't mind. And then? The highways between... ALL will just? Shift and change for him. He can see how it went to Pariah's head. The Zone is pretty agreeable. Is by nature Amoral, cause it's not a Being, it's... well, it's the Zone.

And everyone wants him to ask things. Do things. Demand this or that. Use this power.

Maybe he doesn't WANT too! Maybe he didn't WANT to be king! Doesn't he have the right to say NO? To refuse? Why do they think he OWES them service? An eternity of politics and people trying to kill him, for something he never wanted in the FIRST PLACE.

He's so tired.

The nightclub's pretty cool.

So he comes to ask, politely of course, cause the guy's probably busy, if Morningstar could... dunno, fix or destroy it? Want a ring, maybe? Also he heard you MADE the stars. Huge fan of all of that. Can I ask about the process? Or are you in the middle of something?

And? Lucifer? Turns around, from where he's Leaning Seductive Yet Elegantly(tm) to see... scrawny. Tiny corpse child. No... half? Corpse? Alive. Dying. Alive yet dying. Huh. Well, that is different. And here he didn't think he'd get see anything NEW. You, child, are NOT a zombie. What are you?

Halfa.

I have no idea what that is. What do you want?

He gets shown the ugliest, crudest, peice of shit ring imaginable. A genuine foul little curse. Really stinks up the place. He destroys it, obviously. This club has STANDARDS. Hope that wasn't important?

Kid just smiles the biggest fangy lil grin. No. No it was not.

Obvious, lie, but cute lil teeth. He'll allow it.

He gets dragged into talking about the stars. And talking. And talking. Mostly bragging and explaining. Kid hangs off his every word. Follows him around as he makes his rounds. Asks good questions. Completely focused, dispite the booze and barely dressed dancing all around him.

Lucifer can't help notice the crown.

Lovely little thing. Space ice and star dust, glittering like jewels and light catching the mist. If he remembers right... that one iiiiiis..... not Limbo, it's.... Zone! That crown is the Zone, it changes to suit the wearer. He recognizes the vibe. Awfully young, aren't you?

And.... it all burst forth. He didn't even need to press. Use persuasive words and honeyed tones. Like an inflamed, festering wound. The merest brush is enough to spill everything.

Negligence, greed, blood lust. Bigotry and xenophobia. A tyrants endless quest for power. Ah, humans. They truly don't change do they? Realities away, dead or alive. Now they're harrasing a child. He honestly looks miserable. Whereas just a moment before, listening to Lucifer talk about his work on the stars, his soul practically GLOWED with light. A tiny little star unto himself.

.......maybe it's the big ol "I'm you BIGGEST FAN" eyes. The sad wet cat aura. Perhaps the scrawny "could snap you like a twig" teenager, all elbows and knees. The fact he is, in fact, NOT human; for all that he once was. But?? The kid? Is... not terrible company.

He'd even go so far as to say? It's like having a pet intern.

He can sleep on the couch.

Tell you what, you stay here? I'll keep taking about stars and YOU can do the chores I don't feel like doing. I'll take care of you and all that.

And Danny? Honestly was sold at the word "stars" but? This sounds like a phenomenally terrible idea... and he has yet to meet one of THOSE he hasn't made out sloppy still with, so deal! But as a minor, that DOES make you his new gaurdian for the next four-ish years. He's legally obligated to finish schooling.

Ah.

.....well shit.

(Just? Local stressed 14-15 year old Ghost King does RESPONSIBILE thing and finds Adultier Adult. With more qualified Adult powers. Unfortunately for everyone, the adult is Lucifer Morningstar, night club owner. Even MORE Unfortunately, said ghost kind has pack bonded with the Nice Star Man, who saved him from the Bad Ring, and effectively offered to let him crash on his swanky couchs.

Now Morningstar has to? Somewhat VAGUELY pretend he gives a shit local schooling system, as he puts his charge INTO it. Actively giving waking terrors to the magical community. What evil plot is afoot? Where did he get this tiny minor death god? What is his end goal FOR said child?

No one knooooows~

But Lucifer is just doing this cause he's a Being of his word. He hates the tedious minor chores he'll be foisting off onto Danny. And? Most importantly? Look at that face. *shoujo sparkly eyes of Star Sempai Noticed Me!* it's like having a golden retriever puppy. Ffs he has STANDARDS.)

(It'd be hilarious to watch the hostile 5th dimensional chess DC characters have going on in the background, all while? Danny is like? Man! Isn't this universe GREAT? Everyone here is so CHILL! And nice to me! I'm so relaxed now! Finally, I can finish my education in peace.)

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[spellbinding10]

Okay… so Umbrella Academy season 4…SPOILERS!!!!

I know that maaaannnyyy people were not happy with Lila and Five, but I’m not gonna lie, in a way they were meant to be.

Now there’s the supposed “age gap” but we have to remember that, although he’s physically 19/20, Five is older than Lila. Yes she “watched him grow” from a mid teen but Five was so many years his own senior. And he was a legal age He was mentally 68 and has lived 2 maybe 3 lifetimes already. And for the most part he lived them alone.

I think that we all need to remember that five was alone for so long. He went back to his family, wounded, isolated and with foreknowledge that no one could comprehend. Lila is the only one that truly understands what it feels like to feel out of place in Time. They were raised by the same morals and merits. They understood what no one else could. They both have been through unimaginable pain and suffering. And I think they had the ability to heal one another, in fact they did. Five saw Lila for who she truly was, he cherished her and appreciated all of her. Her chaos, her madness, compassion, courage and mind.

Now I had the start of Lila and Five returning to her family scene paused for sooo long. I couldn’t bear watching it. Did I? Yeah, love me a bit of angst. I really didn’t like how hurt Diego was, truly, but Five knew what Lila and he had was real and I can understand his anger. Do I condone cheating, absolutely not. I’ve been cheated on. But I’m also one for “the right person”, so in a FICTIONAL world I understand. I can also understand why Lila needed to end it ,for the sake of her children, because that’s what true love is, the love of your children. But he was there when she had to let her family go. He stood by her side and comforted her even though she had broke his heart. And thank BrOKe me!

There also seems to be a lot of posts about the REAL Five Hargreeves. Guys that is character development. Is it positive. Eh, ish. But not all people grow in the same way. Yes Five would do anything for his family. But I don’t think he “gave up”. Five has always been logical, from the very start. His sole purpose in life was to get back to his family and save the world. Save the people of that world, their lives, the very essence of life. And he did that. He didn’t give up. Five found out that his family was the cause of it all. He didn’t sacrifice them to be selfish. He couldn’t stand to watch his family die over and over. They would never rest, never know peace and they would spend the rest of their lives knowing that each apocalypse was their fault. It took courage to tell them. They could have kept going on. Klaus, would have kept using. Luther would still be in anguish over Solan (also where the fuck was she in all this? - anyway, no, another time) Allison would have kept loosing Claire. And every one of them would have kept loosing something in that particular time line that they cared about. I dunno man. I think Five is the same as he always was. He lived alone in the apocalypse surrounded by the destruction of life. He ensured it wouldn’t happen ever again. He did his job. He saved his family. The world.

So yeah, you’re all entitled to your opinion and you have your reasons for it. This is mine. I liked Five and Lila. The ending was, peace and love to the writers, bullshit - though bittersweet I suppose, but bullshit.

[lovelylogans]

the parent trap

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: hopped off the plane at lax with a dream of civil reconciliation with my ex-husband

Remus plots. Grandfather aids and abets. Janus panics. Logan suffers them all.

⁂

Okay, all packed. 

It’s a relief he doesn’t have to pretend to be Roman anymore, and therefore barely folds any of the clothes in his bag; he does bend a sleeve or two around Paddington, to offer some sort of protection, before he zips it up and goes to put it out in the hall for someone to haul down to the car.

He intends to go back to Roman’s room, he really does, but…

But there’s incomprehensible murmurings emerging from Dad’s bedroom. Remus slinks up to the door, tilting his head to listen in.

“...rather dishy.”

Uncle Logan makes a very particular sighing sound, but Remus isn’t quite sure what it is. Roman would probably know immediately.

“Oh, I’m so pleased you’re coming,” Dad groans. “The man seems to make me absolutely lose my head. He doesn’t even have to be here for it.”

“I can see that,” Uncle Logan says, and Remus quickly takes that as his cue, stepping into his Dad’s bedroom, Roman’s carryon in hand.

“All set, Dad!”

“Good,” Dad says, looking deeply distracted; he’s not wearing any jewelry, the first time Remus has seen such an affair outside of pajamas, his hair’s unkempt, and he’s only got on one shoe. “Me too. Almost.”

“Erm,” Remus says, spotting the matching brown shoe at the door beside him before he holds it up to his Dad.

“What? Yes! Ah, yes,” Dad says, and sits on the bed, quickly going about getting it on. “Thank you, dear. Um. Did you speak to your father?”

“Uh, yeah,” Remus says, then, once he sees Uncle Logan giving him a Look out of the corner of his eyes, makes his tone more firm. “Yeah, I have! I just hung up with him, actually. He said he’s anxious to see you!”

Dad’s hand hovers over his jewelry box, before he very hastily draws back from his meager collection of rings as if they’ve burned him, quickly refocusing on the earrings. “Anxious-nervous, like he’s completely dreading it?” 

He plucks out several pairs of earrings, and then stares at them as if he’s completely forgotten what the next step of that is.

“Or—or anxious-excited, like he’s looking forward to it?”

“Pick the blue,” Remus says, with slight ulterior motives and foreknowledge of Pa’s favorite color. “It’ll set off the white.”

“What? Oh, yes. The blue. Thank you.” Dad says, setting down several other pairs of earrings and holding up a pair of what looks like cascading droplets of silver and sapphires.

“And anxious-excited, definitely,” Remus lies. Just a little white lie. It’s worth it from the way. “He said he’ll meet us tomorrow at noon at the Stafford Hotel in San Francisco.”

“Tomorrow?” Dad says, briefly clutching at his dresser. “My, my, that’s… that’s very soon, isn’t it?”

“I guess!” Remus says brightly.

“Erm—how about you run downstairs and gather up tickets from your Grandfather while I finish up here?”

“Okay!” Remus says, on his way out.

There are footsteps after him, a friendly, uncle-ish hand on his shoulder, before—

“You are so lucky he is out of sorts at the minute, or he would’ve caught you out in this lie in five seconds flat.”

Remus puts his fingers to his lips, shushing Uncle Logan intently, before he skips down the stairs.

“Ah! Remus,” Grandfather says, beckoning him over. He chances a wary glance up the stairs before he looks back to Remus, lowering his voice.

“Now, what was the name of this gent you wanted me to send this check off to?”

“Roman’ll fax over the information,” Remus says. “Oh, that’s gonna be great, Gramps, thanks so much—”

Grandfather’s giving him a peculiar look.

“Gramps?” Remus repeats. “No?”

“I think not,” Grandfather says. 

“Hm,” Remus says.

“Why Gramps?”

“I dunno,” Remus says. “I mean, I’ve been calling you Grandfather this whole time, and that’s just so stuffy.”

“Stuffy, eh?”

“I’ve never had a grandpa before, see,” Remus says. “I feel like I should come up with something fun to call you.”

“Hm,” Grandfather says. “Well, so long as it isn’t Peepaw or some American nonsense, if you please, I suppose I’ll hear out your suggestions.”

“Pop?”

“Maybe.”

“Grampy.”

“No.”

“Grand-pappy!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Grand-dude?”

“Do I seem particularly dude-like to you?”

“No, but that’s why it’d be funny,” Remus says. “Hmm… maybe I’m leaning too heavily into the Grand part of it. Maybe it should be like a new name entirely.”

Remus examines his Grandfather with a critical eye, tapping his finger to his chin. Hmm… not something based on Grandfather, not quite something based on James, either…

Remus brightens. “You smoke tobacco, don’t you?”

“Not in front of you, of course,” Grandfather declares theatrically loudly, before he gives Remus a little wink.

“I’ll call you Toby!” 

Grandfather chortles, shaking his head with amusement.

“All right,” he says. “If my choices are dude or Toby, I suppose I shall take Toby.”

“Excellent,” Remus says, and he laces his arm through Grandfather Toby’s. “Now, let’s talk you coming to see me, next time…”

⁂

Janus tries his very best to breathe deep and even as they begin to depart from Pembroke Lane. He hugs his father goodbye, only to see Remus bounce up and offer him the same, squeezing him so tightly that Janus can see his little muscles bulging through his jumper.

“Bye, Toby.”

“Bye, Remus.”

Remus pulls back, only to take his hands and squeeze them. “You’re coming to Napa for Thanksgiving, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Father says sincerely, before kissing Remus on the forehead and nudging him toward the limo, then squeezing Janus’s shoulder.

“Good luck, dear.”

Janus inhales sharply, nods, and hands over his suitcase to the chauffeur, sliding into the limo after Logan.

“Say hi to your Father for me!” Father calls merrily to Remus.

“I will!” Remus says brightly, and Janus tries his best to relax in the backseat, even though they are on their way to the airport, to see his ex-husband, two of the most terrifying things in the world.

The car drive, customs, and loading onto the plane seem to all pass by in an awful blur, everything suddenly moving much too quickly; eventually, they are loaded into their row, Remus at the window, Janus in the middle, and Logan in the aisle.

Logan gently takes Janus’s shaking hand.

“They’re safer than cars, you know.”

“Shut up,” Janus says through gritted teeth, but he squeezes his cousin’s hand hard anyway. “I, at least, know that if something goes wrong in a car, I can step out onto solid land, unlike this—this wretched flying tin can.”

Remus turns from the window, where he’d been watching the people on the runway conduct their mysterious business for some time.

“It’ll be fine, Dad,” he says, with the brazen sort of confidence of a young boy who had never once read any article about the myriad technical failures that could plague a plane like this. “You’ll see.”

Janus lets out a shaky exhale. “Yes, poppet, I suppose I will. Why don’t you look out there and tell me all about these, er…”

“Ground crew,” Logan supplies under his breath.

“Ground crew. Yes.”

Smartest people who worked for the airline, really. Always on the ground, never in the air. Never at the mercy of gravity and airflow.

Also, conveniently away from asking Remus about the one man he’s desperately, desperately curious about.

“I dunno much about it, but okay,” Remus says, turning out of the window again, and then, “Ooh, that guy just totally faceplanted!”

Janus would much rather be faceplanted into the tarmac a hundred times than be on this flight for eleven and a half hours. 

“Oh, wow, he’s bleeding pretty good… must’ve landed right on his nose, poor sod…”

Janus would take a pretty bad nosebleed over this. In fact, Janus would probably take quite a bit of awful things rather than fly internationally for the sole purpose of reuniting with his ex-husband.

Janus could probably manage this. Probably.

…no, he absolutely couldn’t, but it’s too late; the pilot is coming over the intercom, the plane is moving, and Janus sinks lower in his chair.

Goodbye, solid ground, I love you, he thinks, holding Logan’s hand so tightly that his knuckles have gone white. Logan does not breathe a word of complaint. I’ll never, ever take you for granted again.

“Deep breaths,” Logan murmurs in his ear.

Janus snarls at him as quietly as he can, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

The plane, with a great rumbling and roaring, is picking up speed—it’s surely barrelling down the runway—there’s a great lurch—we are going to crash, we are absolutely going to crash—

“Bye, London!” Remus says cheerfully beside him. “See ya sometime!”

Janus cracks an eye open.

They’re in the air.

“There you are,” Logan says, patting Janus’s hand. “The most statistically dangerous part is over until we start the landing descent.”

“Oh my God, why would you tell me that.”

“I thought it would be helpful.”

“Maybe, until we start landing the plane!”

“This really freaks you out, huh,” Remus muses, and Janus swallows, rubbing his free, sweaty hand on his pants.

“Fairly badly, yes.”

“Hm,” Remus says, then, “You know, my Dad always says we get good business at the vineyard, ‘cause even if people don’t like it much, the nice scenery and a glass of wine always helps calm their nerves. D’you think that’ll help?”

“The vineyard?” Janus says, peering over at Remus.

“Where we live,” Remus elaborates. “He bought it and built the house there when I was pretty little, so I guess you’ve never seen it, huh?”

“No,” Janus says faintly. “No, I haven’t.”

He did it, Janus thinks wonderingly. He actually did it. All that talk about his dream, and he’s managed it. Good on you, Patton, wherever you are.

But when the flight attendant trundles by with their cart of beverages, all he can think of when he sees the tiny bottles of chardonnay and sauvignon blanc are long-ago dates, with Patton’s fingers cool from the condensation touching his hand, his voice in Janus’s ear as he explains the difference between a merlot and a cabernet…

And Janus simply cannot. So—

“Vodka, please,” Janus blurts out, and accepts his miniature bottles with a resolute eye on them and not labels that might bear remnants of romantic outings past, ignoring Logan’s incredulous expression.

⁂

If Patton were less nervous, he’d probably think this hotel is really very swanky. Grandfather clocks sit perched in corners, gilt-framed paintings hang on the walls, heavy curtains drape over massive windows that allow beautiful natural lighting to hit the floral-brocade carpet.

Actually, it’s probably him noticing how swanky it is that’s adding to his apprehension.

They round the corner, and there he is, past a concierge dutifully pushing a golden cart full of luggage: there’s his fiancée.

Maddox looks like a knockout. He always does, but especially today for the special occasion. He’s wearing a square-necked top with his arms and upper back bared, tight pants, the typical swoop in his hair tended to carefully.

He’s smiling as he clings to the arm of a man whose hair has gone more salt than pepper, in a nice button-down and a black suit jacket. Clinging to the white-haired man’s other arm is a woman with hair dyed a tasteful blonde-going silver, with massive gold earrings to match the buttons on her pink skirtsuit. 

Here we go, Patton thinks, swallowing hard before he puts a smile on his face.

Sammy offers a reassuring bark, and he smiles down at him before he turns to see Maddox, walking toward him with a pleased expression and wiggling his fingers in a wave.

“Hi, darling,” Maddox says, and Patton presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Remus,” Maddox says to the son he doesn’t know that Patton has, “Virgil. And Sammy. What in the world are you doing here?”

Then, in Patton’s ear, in an undertone, “Honey, a dog at the Stafford?”

Patton shrugs. “Kiddo begged me to bring him.”

That’s not technically lying to Maddox about who Roman is. Right?

“Oh, you’re such a softie,” Maddox says, whacking his bicep playfully. 

Sammy growls at the sight. Patton blinks—Maddox has never really been too enthusiastic about the dog, but Sammy has never once growled at him.

Maybe Sammy just couldn’t read the teasing in it.

“Hey, easy, Sammy, he didn’t mean anything by that,” Patton says, reaching down to rub him behind the ear. Sammy subsides, leaning into Patton’s hands.

Virgil pets Sammy, too, before he looks back to Maddox. “So—these are the folks?”

“Oh, yes!” Maddox says, beckoning the older couple over before he wraps his hands around Patton’s bicep. “Mom, Dad, you finally meet. This is my fiancé and the love of my life: Patton Parker.”

Patton flushes, but he reaches forward with his free hand to take Maddox’s mother’s hand. She clings to it with both hands that are a little cold, a little clammy.

“Hello, Patton, I’m so pleased to meet you,” she says, letting go after just a moment too long. “I’m Vicki.”

“Hi,” Patton says.

“And this,” Maddox continues, “is Patton’s adorable son Remus.”

Patton reaches out with a free arm to wrap around Roman’s shoulder, and Roman immediately leans into his side.

“This entire pre-nuptial get-together was his idea, I’ll have you know,” Maddox says.

If it truly were Remus’s idea? Chaos would have ensued, definitely. But Roman seems much less inclined to hijinks than Patton’s younger son.

“How are you, young man?” Mr. Blake says politely. “We’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you.”

Patton beams at Maddox at the thought of him getting along so well with his kid. Kids. Boy, that’s gonna be an interesting conversation.

Vicki bends so her face is a bit more on Roman’s level.

“Hello, pet,” she croons. “You may call me Aunt Vicki!”

Roman offers her a weak smile.

⁂

Okay, so maybe suggesting booze on the flight was an awful idea, but how on earth was Remus meant to know that their Dad’s a lightweight?!

“We’re here,” Uncle Logan says, reaching back to gently shake Dad’s knee. Dad stirs from where he’s nodded off with his head pressed against the window.

“Hm?” Dad hiccups.

“We’re at the hotel,” Uncle Logan prompts, and he gets out of the car, going to open Janus’s car door for him.

“Hm,” Dad mumbles, nodding off the other way, his head landing atop Remus’s.

“Dad!” Remus protests, elbowing him hard. “We’re here, get up.”

“Oh—whoops,” Dad says inanely, and Uncle Logan clasps his hand, pulling him out. Remus scrambles after, a little worried he’s going to fall over. 

“That was a great flight, wasn’t it?” Dad says, wobbling in a way that makes Remus think this theory might be proven true. “I’ve never been so—so soothed on a plane before!”

“Unsure if soothed is the word for it,” Remus mutters. “More like soused.”

“I’ve never seen you so,” Logan says, falters for a word, and just pats Janus on the shoulder. “Erm.”

“Oh—my shoes!” Dad says, and begins the arduous process of putting his shoes back on as Remus grabs at his elbow, trying to make sure he keeps his balance.

“He’s totally blitzed,” Remus hisses behind his Dad’s back.

“Obviously!” Uncle Logan hisses back.

⁂

“...not that I don’t like the idea of the wedding at the house, but if the hotel could do it, I think that room would be perfect for the wedding!”

Roman ignores Maddox’s continued prattling (“Not too big, not too cramped!”) as Sammy lurches on as Roman holds tightly to his leash, his nose pressed to the carpet as he sniffs at some trail beyond Roman’s imagining.

“It’s just—this could be…”

What it could be, Roman doesn’t know, because suddenly he’s yanked forward by the weight of a golden retriever, with all his weight, sprinting full-force down the hall.

“Sammy!” Roman yelps, but Sammy doesn’t stop, continuing his charge.

⁂

“So, I’ve already checked us in,” Maddox says before Patton can call back Sammy—probably smelling something from room service—who is currently leading Roman on a merry chase down the hall.  

“I got ‘em,” Virgil says, and slips after them, leaving Patton to the Blake family.

“Why don’t we we go upstairs, freshen up, and then rendezvous for lunch?” Maddox continues.

“Great.” Mr. Blake says.

“Meet you at the bar in ten,” Vicki says, and Maddox leans in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh! Perf,” Madox says happily, and turns to watch his parents go.

And then he twins his arm through Patton’s again, the other grasping his hand.

“I think it’s going well,” Patton says quietly, so they don’t overhear him. “Do you think it’s going okay?”

“Of course,” Maddox says. “I’ve told them you’re everything they could’ve dreamed of for their little boy, plus millions times more.”

Patton smiles, bashful, turning to face him. Maddox’s expression turns decidedly more sultry, his hands slipping into Patton’s suit jacket and wrapping around his waist.

“Sweetheart,” Maddox purrs. “Now that we’re here, why don’t we go check out the honeymoon suite? I bet it is to die for.”

⁂

They have just managed to get his shoes on and get Dad in the elevator without incident, when—

“Oh! I forgot my bag!”

Dad lurches through the elevator doors, minorly avoiding getting crushed, and Remus groans as he goes through the lobby.

And then there’s a dog’s bark.

A familiar dog’s bark.

“Sammy!” Remus cries out before he can stop himself—he’d know that bark anywhere, starting low and threatening then breaking into higher-pitched yips when it’s someone he knows; Pa always jokes that he never quite got over his teenage voice change.

Then two familiar heads snap around.

Roman, in a sleek white jacket, and Virgil, who has put on a not-torn jacket for the occasion, turn at the sound of his voice, shocked.

And then Sammy takes advantage of what must have been Roman’s hand going slack, because he lunges out of his grip, sprinting to the elevators, sprinting to Remus.

He dodges a human there—he barrels past another there—he sees a concierge pulling a golden cart of suitcases and leaps over it like the best dog at Westminster—

“Sammy!” Remus squeaks, dropping to his knees and hugging Sammy tightly around his furry neck just as the elevator doors close behind them.

⁂

Well, Roman guesses that’s the best possible outcome of Sammy breaking loose, grinning at the golden doors that have just cut him off from them.

“Ooh,” Virgil grunts, and quickly turns away, hiding his face.

He’s about to ask why, when—

“Dad!” Roman exclaims. 

There he is, Janus James, fashionista extraordinaire: clad in a white silky top, a classic white jacket, white pants, the ensemble set off with a beige pocketbook, a silver necklace, and excellent silver-and-blue dangly earrings.

Oh, Roman’s missed him.

“Remus, you didn’t have to wait for me,” Dad says, the slightest strange edge on his words that confuses Roman until his breath hits him.

Oh, Remus, what did you do?!

“You can get up to the room all by yourself. Besides, I think I need a little—fresh air,” Dad hiccoughs. “Go on, poppet, I’ll meet you upstairs.”

He punctuates the statement with a firm pat to Roman’s shoulder, before he swayingly turns to go. 

“I like that jacket, by the way, were you wearing that on the plane—?”

“DAD WATCH OUT—”

But there’s no need for his warning; the hotel employee toting an elaborate floral centerpiece dodges out of Dad’s way just in time. 

“Oopsie!” Dad says cheerfully, and he lurches on his way.

Roman turns to Virgil, aghast.

“I don’t know how,” he says, “but this is somehow Remus’s fault.”

“I dunno either, but you’re probably right,” Virgil says.

“He’s never had more than a glass of wine a day in his life, and now is the time to show up three sheets to the wind?!”

“Yeah, well,” Virgil says, floundering, before he puts a hand to Roman’s shoulder and steers him to the nearest open elevator. “Just—do what the man says and meet him upstairs!”

⁂

Janus walks into the lobby from his brief sojourn at the front of the hotel, waiting for the world to stop wobbling. It’s settled and now he’s wondering if he’s in time to catch the next elevator, when he looks up.

And then, like a bolt from the blue, Janus sees him.

It’s been over eleven years. He would know that man on sight. But somehow—maybe it isn’t him—

Maybe this mystery man with the five o’clock shadow and a big, callused hands currently resting the small of some mystery man’s back isn’t him. Maybe those are someone else’s broad shoulder—someone else’s five o’clock shadow—someone else’s soulful brown eyes—

But those eyes, those eyes, move from the mystery man to looking out at the lobby, and their eyes meet.

Janus’s jaw drops.

It is. It is him. That is Patton Parker. That is Janus’s ex-husband.

Who currently has a man wrapped in his arms—Patton hastily drops his hand from the small of his back—but, judging by the look of the way this mystery man is moving, going on tiptoe to put his mouth going to Patton’s jaw, is looking to be wrapped around his waist by the time the elevator hits their room’s level.

Patton’s staring, slack-jawed and wide-eyed and leaning—leaning—leaning—he catches himself with his hand on the elevator wall, staring still as the door slides shut—

And then—in what might possibly be the most humiliating moment of Janus’s life—

He smiles at Patton Parker, still agape, and then, like some kind of moron, lifts up his hand and wiggles his fingers in a little wave.

Patton’s lips part, as if to form his name, right as the door closes between them.

⁂

“Remus Parker!”

And then two boys pop out of opposite doorways on either side of the hallway.

Or perhaps just one? Or—

“Oh,” Janus groans, putting his hands to his head, “am I just seeing double, or—”

“It’s me, Dad,” says the one wearing a sleek white jacket. “Roman!”

“Oh!” Janus gasps, “darling!” and manages to catch Roman in a hug, resting his head on top of his son’s.

Still that same streak, though he’s using a different shampoo—what surely must be Remus’s typical fare—and Janus presses a kiss to it, before he draws back, surveying Roman’s face.

He’s a little tanner than he was when he left, much like Remus—and goodness, he’s grown, hasn’t he?! Why did children insist on growing?

“Oh, you look wonderful,” Janus says, carding a hand over his hair. 

And he does. He looks as though he’s just spent a bracing summer doing outdoorsy sorts of activities with boys his own age, and also coincidentally finding his own twin brother at some random American summer camp!

“I can’t believe you’re together,” Janus says fondly, before he remembers the situation Patton’s sons have wrought, “but how could you do this to me?!”

A door cracks open again, and a familiar face—if a decade older—peeks out.

“Uh, hi,” he says. “‘Scuse me, I hate to interrupt, but might I suggest we continue this discussion inside?”

He’s moving to usher the boys into the suite, before he turns back to Janus.

“Hey—you probably don’t remember me, I’m—”

“Virgil!” Janus cuts him off, greatly cheered by the presence of a familiar and adult and not-scheming face. He grabs Virgil’s arm, briefly, “of course I remember you!” and squeezes it before he lets go, rushing to give a great big talking-to to the two most troublesome eleven-year-old boys on the face of the Earth.

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

[bugsinthebayou]

is it weird to "miss" soupmoths?

my time as soupmoths was fun. soup madness was at its height, i had recently gotten into the mechs and tma, i was also super into hermitcraft. i was... really happy? i think? during that era.

i am not the same person i was back then. it was barely a full year ago and yet if i were to change my url from donatelloturtle to soupmoths i would feel like i were wearing a mask made out of the skin of a younger me.

i am still me. the baselines of me are still there. still silly. still autistic (even more so). still having a good time. still into what i was into back then.

what do i feel nostalgic for? if anything, im happier now than i was then. i dont want to return to that. but i look back on that era with fond nostalgia and i just dont remember why.

perhaps its because it spanned such a long time.

my other urls. they all have one, at most two, things associated with them. there was a main profile picture and a main thing id post about.

eyemoths? tma. no icon or color remembered. lasted a couple weeks at most. thestarshipaurora. the mechs. tim pfp, lot of brown. lasted a couple months. casinomoths. lifesteal. the art of csoupie, brown and pink. lasted a month? wlttebane. toh + tdp. caleb and callum icons, lots of yellow and brown. lasted a couple months. sonadowt4t. sonic. shadow pfp, brown and yellow with vague black n red for colors. lasted a couple months?

but soupmoths.... soupmoths was long.

soupmoths lasted 8-ish months, spanned multiple interests (the primary one was hermitcraft), icons, and colors.

perhaps soupmoths' vagueness in what it was is what gives me such a feeling of nostalgia? is it nostalgia?

soupmoths was me, at their core. they still had their fascination with the ocean and dinosaurs they still loved their friends in the same way i do. and yet i still feel like we're so different.

it's just what growing up is like, im aware.

its still just such an odd feeling. its not too dissimilar to how i feel to me prior to figuring out im trans. (hell, even me after finding out im trans. ive been through a lot of change these past few years.) just... less intense?

i suppose it just might because soupmoths was more "solid" than other eras.

eh. i dunno. i dont know shit about the brain

[cloudbattrolls]

"I'm so super powerful that way and also I love not dying, and don't want you to die either." You mutter when he says he's surprised he can take a full breath.

It isn't technically a lie; you're just not mentioning it's due to magic, not psiionics.

You don't like that shivering ground, but you don't know what else to do about it without knowing exactly what you're dealing with, so hurrying onward it is.

Lashing out blindly could make things worse and cause a cave-in, and while you're pretty sure you could save yourself and probably him, you don't feel like testing that unless you have to.

"Eh, it's not me in particular...I think." You admit, because you're not totally sure. "They've grabbed a lot of folks. I'm not sure they're even sapient, I think they're controlled by something else, but I don't know a lot.

Part of why I was out here trying to figure more stuff out, but of course the bastards had to pop up anyway. They do seem to be attracted to violence and death, especially random death more than like, I dunno, organized violence or self-defense, if that makes any sense."

"Don't blame you if it doesn't, though, these things are fucking weird." You say. "I wouldn't be dealing with them if I wasn't trying to stop them, but as you can see, shit's fucking dangerous."

You snort and shake your head at him.

"I'm not a horror movie protagonist, pal, I'm just the bitch who got stuck dealing with this bullshit. Name's Gliese, by the way, what's yours?"

Hopefully if you just go a little further, you can pop up and be close enough to town to be safe. Ish.

=> You have absolutely no idea what's going on here, exactly, but you follow alongside them as the both of you move away from what sounds like a herd of digging animals.

"Nx k|dd|ng. | dxubt there's much a|r dxwn here, |'m surpr|sed | can even take a full breath."

"Nxt tx ment|xn the l|ght|ng? Eh. | guess |'ve seen we|rder th|ngs happen."

=> You glance behind yourself at the tunnel actively sealing itself behind you. You think the ground is shivering a bit, but you chalk it up to an optical illusion in the less-than-full lighting.

"Xkay, |'ll b|te - why are these... 'th|ngs', assum|ng that they are mxre than just clxth|ng mxdels - after yxu?"

"Because |'ve never had anyth|ng l|ke th|s happen."

"Sx | just sxrt xf assume yxu're the hxrrxr mxv|e prxtagxn|st w|th th|s xne. | hxpe tx gxd |'m nxt the cxmedy rel|ef, they get k|lled secxnd."

=> There aren't any couples nearby trying to kiss, so you would actually be moved up to first. But if you mention that, then you become the subverter. And the subverter gets killed when they expect a cliche.

=> Horror movies have a lot of rules, you've come to realize.

[gamblealifearchived1]

           ( this concerns no one, but I’m setting this out there now & getting it off my chest: if for some reason, I make you uncomfortable, please, tell me? I don’t really like not knowing these things & it only tends to build anxiety. So, please. & Know that I don’t force shipping. I’d prefer chemistry or talking about it unless we’re close friends & we basically ship anything. That’s all for this Ted Talk. Thank you. ) 

[vsa-pieldepapel]

Indulge my inner shipping trash-self for a bit. What exactly made Kris crush on Noelle? What do they like about her? Why prank her constantly? If they hadn't drifted apart, what would their relationship look like? (bonus Ralsusie question: How would it work if Ralsei couldn't leave the dark world?)

The indulgence is all mine as well anon

> what exactly made kris crush on Noelle?

When they were kids? Nothing too important. Just the closeness of the relationship and that noelle was a cute girl, and Kris would feel like a valiant knight taking her on adventures. Kids don’t really need super deep reasons for their puppy crushes

As they grow up, I think a big part of it is the mutual understanding they have. Both feel alienated and pressured for different reasons and there is a respite in each other; Kris knowing noelle trusts them with all her quirks makes her attractive (after they bond over dark world shenanigans of course, my take is right now as of chapter 2 they are only starting to heal). I also think kris is attracted to the idea of a “partner in crime” which Noelle has been for a long, long time

> what do they like about her?

Interestingly, the sides of her that are less public LMFAO it’s all part of the Confidence you see

Her taste for horror, her prankster side, her appearance (yes I think kris finds Noelle really cute lol), her sense of humor are all big ones. We all know kris pranks Noelle but in Ch.2 we can see her retaliate and be sarcastic and playful and sharp and I think kris really likes that, again, the idea of a partner in crime to stick with through clean and messy and dick around with. I also hc they like the serious side of her— like when she waxes poetic about growing wings in the Ferris wheel, or monologues about Dess? They have heard that type of monologue before and they like it

> why prank her constantly?

It’s a love language!!!! Kris knows noelle enjoys the adrenaline of getting spooked to a degree and extrapolates she will like them if they give her that thrill, and so pranks her to get her attention when they’re kids and it solidifies as a way to display affection. Kris won’t do a prank that goes too far, they know where to draw the line and how to tightrope it. They acquired the practice through going too far a couple times

They also know she will return the jabs and games, and they like that.

> If they hadn’t drifted apart, what would the relationship look like?

Lmfao is it bad if I said I think Noelle would have never gotten a crush on Susie if they hadn’t drifted apart cus that’s what I think. I dunno if they would already be dating but they for sure would have more complex feelings for each other, perhaps walking that awkward line of “but they’ve been my neighbour forever, they probably see me more as a sister”

Or maybe the feelings toward Susie would exist, but the feelings toward kris would also exist, with all the consequent implications. Teen drama ahoy (I think if she did feel attracted to Susie, it would be on a more physical level and conflicting with the feelings toward kris… kris also has problems expressing their own feelings toward Noelle and so the relationship is at a standstill)

(Doodle of kriselle endgame to finish)

>BONUS ROUND how would Ralsusie work if ralsei couldn’t leave the dark world?

PBTBTHRBTH this is so silly but I guess it’s time to talk about the Van Headcanon eH?

In @zixzs-ajk’s fics, there is this little world building bit that the shed in the forest is an entrance to the Dark World. I really like that, and I stole it to hc the following: a few years down the line when Susie is 19-Early 20s, she gets kicked out of the house for good. At this point she has bought a dinky secondhand van. When this happens she moves in there and drives it next to the shed, setting up camp- and lives this double life of sorts where she will have a part time odd job in the light world to keep the van working-ish and socialise with kris and Noelle, but the rest of her time is spent in the dark world with Ralsei, where she has food, shelter, a lover. (I dont doubt the others go visit her there, too)

I conflate it with Rals leaving the dark world so they sometimes sleep together in the van/camp when they want to be alone, but it works if he can’t leave the dark world, the difference being that she would gradually spend more and more time there. She will never 100% stay in it without leaving (she cares for her other friends a lot, and the van does need some degree of upkeep) but most of her life is spent being queen with ralsei because duh prince he’s gonna ascend to king with warrior queen in tow

Of course canon May shit all over this and adjustments would be done accordingly, but for now, that’s the idea for that one

[ofallthingsnasty]

Ooof lemme just touch on my thoughts with American forests? Bc I grew up in the middle of nowhere, and currently I'm living by what's supposed to be a protected forest, but is slowly being chipped away at for more developments. This may sound like a weird breakdown but eh, I'm on anon so like. It be what it be!

But like. The vibes vary? I worked at a nature center for a bit and you could tell the woods fostered a sort of love towards it's visitors, a lot of who were little kids on field trips to learn? I can see these spaces reflecting the memories and emotions of the area, and there was a bunch of laughter and overall fun to be had!

The forest next to me? Being developed very slowly? Dude it's angry or something is. I have to wake up at 3am-ish for work and you can hear things on the way past driving by? Things that sound a bit off. Moving shadows in the corner of your eye, displaced deer and bear and all sorts of critters roaming the streets at night.

I hate that this weird housing market boom is causing these companies to buy up land in an attempt to make failing developments; the amount of abandoned developments that have just bulldozed the forest, paved the roads, made a example house and just. Never went further than that is sad. If anyone moves into that area like good luck. As an extra special edition, there's a giant sinkhole in that area, meaning if they develop it, basically they'd be selling shit homes that'd constantly need repair bc of the shifting earth underneath with a real risk of one day just being sucked into the earth?

I dunno, I've always been drawn to the water more than the forest? Like throw me in the water and my soul feels at home, the forest to me is beautiful! But not my particular jam. But man also fucked up water mythos is also a bigass vibe

hfjdhsj that sounds scary omg - ngl American forests/wildlife legitimately scare me. I was around 19/20ish when I learned that the US is still super wild, for the lack of a better word - and that people die of exposure, get attacked by predators etc. That is absolutely bewildering to me. We have very little virgin forests left iirc. It's either commercially used forests (my family owns some odd hectars of one, actually! and if you think it makes big money... it doesn't 😂 we've just been farmers for eons) or very young forest that is barely recovering (yes there are ancient oaks etc but many conservatory efforts have only been made during the 19th century!). So while we do have nice forests, thick and lush - they pale in comparison to what we had centuries ago. The Battle of the Teutoburg Forest is legendary for a reason, the Romans were fucking going through it in all that muck. I just- listen the last time we had a free bear in Germany, he got a fancy name, was tracked and everyone FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT UNTIL HE GOT SHOT RIP. We called him 'Bruno the problem bear'. Like. We're scared, okay? And Americans go camping and put their food in another container outside of their tents "because there's bears *shrug*" BRO I- WDYM THERE ARE BEARS- GET ME OUT OF HERE

Seriously, the US is unfathomable to my feeble middle-European mind lmao

And yeah, like you said!! Forests are weird places... And I totally get why humans of ye olden times™ had a million tales surrounding them. I hate forests at night, tepid European ones or not 😭 (also.... sinkholes are so dangerous?? holy shit, whatever they're doing at your place, that should be illegal jeez. Never underestimate nature, people die from that)

(Haha if you like water you'd like my home state!! We have lakes everywhere + the Spree Forest. But we've been getting a little 'muddier' in these last couple of years haha) And water-based myths!!! I grew up with creepy water witches and nymphs!! There's one very specific to my region and he's a mean little fucker who kills children by drowning them/clubbing them and putting their souls in pots. He also loves to play cards lol Are there any water-based cryptids etc in America, actually? I don't think I've ever heard of one of those... There probably are, I'm just not aware 🤔

[commander-shad]

I said in a blog earlier today that I would post my thoughts on the game after I was done, but screw it, I'm going for it now lmao. I just need to talk about it ok-

Don't go below the cut if you haven't played up until the quest Singularity (haven't done it myself yet)!

Long post ahead!

Let's start from the beginning eh?

1. The game starts by getting you right in the feels, huh? "And for a moment, I feel whole" Give this girl a found family pls, she needs it

2. Didn't expect Varl to show up! And the beard suits him, no matter what Aloy says lmao (why he'd have to get rid of it?)

3. Burrowers are so cute, a bit of a pain in the ass, but cute

4. Damn, Aloy has to write a guide on how to destroy someone's entire worldview in less than five minutes, because like, she didn't even hesitate (it becomes a little ironic if you told CYAN to go gently on the Banuk in the Frozen Wilds lol)

5. Well, if the Far Zenith stuff isn't a huge Chekhov's Gun, then I don't know what is

6. They actually let Aloy say "sh*t"! It took me aback a little honestly, out of all things in the game, this is what surprised me, huh

7. The Slitherfang was so cool tho

8. For that one scene- I legit just went 'Travis, you f*cking nerd!' Really felt Aloy's pain here

9. Really didn't expect the return to Meridian! A pleasant surprise for sure

10. That statue tho

11. Sylens, you son of a-

12. Avad still thirsts over Aloy I see. I picked the brain option, but after seeing the fist one giffed, I kinda wish I picked that one instead, but what's done done lol, Imma go for that next playthrough

13. It was nice to see some returning characterS for a while before we embarked to the West

14. Wow, Aloy really bailed on Varl like that eh? Considering that she's done it before (as shown in the comics and as mentioned in-game), I wasn't really surprised. Tbh tho, I'm not one to judge, I'd do the same, but just because I'm not a people's person

15. The song that kicked in the credits, totally didn't see it coming, but yeah, the moment I was done with that playthrough I immediately looked for it in Youtube, and now I can't stop playing it, send help-

16. Ok, but like, can we talk about the soundtrack? The reworked version of Aloy's Theme is amazing, and something I noticed about it- the HFW version of the theme sounds considerably more sci-fi-ish than the HZD version, you could say that it very subtly foreshadows how much more sci-fi-ish this game is in comparison to the first game. Dunno if it was intentional, but I kinda like that detail

17. And thus we are in the Daunt! Vuadis- excuse me- STUDIOUS Vuadis- he's funny. Funny as in 'I kinda hate him right now' lmao

18. Chainscrape is a pretty nice looking place-

19. Petra!

20. Oh look, that in-game board game I won't be playing because I suck at strategy

21. And now we get to see Erend. I kinda liked this interaction they had to be honest. Aloy had to get called out on her sh*t at some point, amirite? Erend was very obviously hurt by the way she suddenly disappeared, and in a way, no matter which option you pick, she still seems to be a bit of an a**hole, because no matter the reason she left, she still left without saying a word, and that's just not cool (says my hypocritical ass who previously admitted that I would ditch people with no remorse), so yeah Erend, you deserve to be salty about this

22. And now we go to Barren Light- Aloy still is a force to be reckoned with- the way Varl arrives just in time and Erend who is already there just going "oh you know, Aloy challenges the authorities and tempts fate, what else is new", so casually lmao

23. Shouldn't have been surprising to see Erend stand up for Aloy against the commander. While it's obvious that he still isn't happy about the stuff she's pulling, it seems that he still is determined to be there for her now, no matter what, like- he's trying, instead of holding all that stuff against Aloy, he's trying to be there for her instead when she wasn't and that shows a lot of maturity on his part

24. Regalla's entrance was pretty badass. The way the rest of the encounter went wasn't so much- it was very reminiscent of the Proving actually, except Aloy wasn't the target this time

25. My man Kotallo just stopped a Bristleback without even using a weapon, he's just rammed into it to stop it in it's tracks, how badass is that?

26. Ok, but Aloy just stood there while Grudda beat Varl's ass, she didn't even try to stop him, what gives-

27. Finally, the Shieldwing! I'm addicted to using it now-

28. And now, we're heading to the Horus. Totally not ominous and definitely Sylens' taste in lairs

29. Sylens is as insufferable as usual

30. Is it weird I feel a little bad for HADES? Whatever Sylens did to it, left it a shell of it's former self- anyways, it still was so satisfying to see it gone for good this time

31. That holo of Travis and Elisabet, in Latopolis though- "How do you love the world so much, but don't seem to love a single person it it?" I-I feel attacked-

31. That maze was a pain to figure out, I had to use a guide tbh-

32. This f*cking quest man- this damn quest- ok, so- Sylens just went "these people outside want you, but worry, they won't do anything to you, now open the hatch will you?", Aloy goes "lol no" and destroys her current Focus (considering that she hands out Focuses everywhere like they are nothing, I was left wondering just how many does she have on her person?) and uses a new one. So, the hatch to the facility was supposed to be open to Aloy only- AND THEN- EXCUSE ME, WTF

33. Oh what the f*ck- there's another- you know I was thinking about the possibility of another Elisabet clone, but definitely not like this- and like- who tf are these people? Why do they want me dead? And what the heck are these new machines?

34. F*ck Erik btw

35. The fact that we aren't even close to the middle yet and we already had our near death experience of the game tho- (they just had to name the quest "Death's Door" lmfao). That escape must have left Aloy pretty f*cked up if she was basically delirious when she got washed up on the shore. Speaking of that-

36. OUCH. WHY.

37. "I'm fine", Aloy says, nearly falling over for the like, fifth time in the last three minutes

38. I think it's cute the Utaru land-gods (to us known as Plowmowers) are named after the musical notes

39. It seems that VarlxZo has sailed! Good for them!

40. Ok, but I wanna talk about this scene for a bit- my reading of it is that- well you can very clearly see that Aloy is very determined to take off as soon as possible, even if she can barely stand. "I will crawl there if I have to" in her words. And I feel like she would have actually gone through with I believe, she has zero chill. And then she sees what Varl and Zo have going. I think she was a little guilty. Like, he seemed to be happy with Zo, and because of her stubbornness he would miss out on going with her to Plainsong. So Aloy giving in to their request to rest up and heal, is giving up on this small bit of selfishness she got going for Varl's sake. Well, she definitely benefited from it in the end though, that's good.

41. On an unrelated note, I got two of them actually, I'm kinda glad they are still keeping Aloy single (not me here projecting my aroace ass). Like, it's not just that, I just think that Aloy isn't really ready for something as deep as a romance, not yet at least. I mean, think about it: she grew up as an outcast, with only one person to talk to, so let's be honest here, she really doesn't know her way around people, you can tell from how socially awkward (socially awkward as in the way she behaves around people, talking down figures of authority for example) and blunt she can be. And if you think about it, Aloy never really had a friend growing up (just how sad is that?), I really wouldn't be surprised if she didn't really know what being actually friends with someone means, my guess is that she has a very surface level understanding of friendship, and that's why she has so much trouble properly opening up to her friends here in HFW. TLDR; Pls, give this girl a found family/friends before we go into any romances first if they do go into that. Besiiiiiides, Erend and Varl seem to be acting more like older brother figures to me more than anything

42. Ok uh, so I have several minor unrelated notes to make regarding a specific line of side quests that from what I've seen has disappointed several people, but it's not what you might expect. Anyway, here it goes. Just putting it out there; I have no problem at all with Talanah having a thing for Amadis, and I say that as someone whose first option for romance for Aloy if it happens is Talanah (if you don't let me keep my girl ace, at least let me romance a girl, thank you very much), I mean, bi Talanah anyone? Besides, Talanah has two hands 😏Second, I'm gonna put it out here, I wasn't that big on Talanah in the first place, she's an ok character for me at best, the one that is a little over hyped, but still pretty ok. Thirdly, call it a hot take if you want (as if the previous ones weren't hot enough takes already lmao), it very much makes sense that Talanah wouldn't become a member of the main character crew and that she remains in the realm of side quests. Let me explain. Talanah is a pretty missable character as in, not everyone is going to invest hundreds of hours to replay a game, not everyone is going to do all side quests (let's be honest here, as great as HZD is, it's side quests weren't and the most engaging ones (now that I think of it, that might be the reason I'm not that big on Talanah)), so a combination of both can lead to a character simply not getting enough attention as to become main character grade. So I think that we should be glad we even got a Talanah side quest in the first place, because she could easily be a character who didn't get enough attention as to get a place in the sequel. I mean, imagine if a much more obscure character from the first game suddenly became a main, pretty jarring, right? Anyways- Of course you all have a right to be disappointed in how her story went, while I didn't see much in Talanah's character, you guys did, so I guess you all know something more than I do ig. I personally wasn't disappointed, because I didn't really hold any expectations for her, I was perfectly happy with what the writers had in mind for Talanah. You guys who were let down didn't, and I very much respect that. Sorry for this rant, I just kinda really wanted to talk about this, you know- With that aside, I'm gonna say this, both Talanah and Amadis deserved better. Amadis deserved better than to live with the knowledge that this person he cared so much for simply doesn't really seem to give a f*ck about him anymore and Talanah deserved better than now having to deal with that this person she came to really like might never actually come to reciprocate her feelings just because he might never really get over the aforementioned events. So my guess is that there might be still hope for TalanahxAloy shippers, not the Talanah being invited to the base thing, but a chance of the two getting together in the future, who knows (optimism at it's finest ey?) Ok, done with this rant I think

43. Alright, where was I? Right, at Stone's Echo. After here we set out to find Plainsong. Man, the Utaru's architecture is kinda insane, they really just built their home on top of the satellite dishes, I'd love to live there (if not for the red blight thing)

44. Ok so uh, so much has happened in recent playthroughs that my memory is a little fuzzy when it comes to this part of the game, but if I remember correctly we went to Repair Bay TAU to reach Minerva, right? Or they needed something from the Core to track down MINERVA's exact location? I think? Can't remember, someone pls correct me on this- All I remember is fighting the Grimhorn and then Aloy was so close to pulling an Ourea while kicking HEPHAESTUS out from TAU that she just gets up, turns to the others and basically goes thumbs up looking like she's this close to falling apart lmao

45. Poor MINERVA tho, must have been scared, but at least we managed to get GAIA up and working! Yay! Mother Nature as an AI is back!

46. Ok but like- Horizon having a base of operations in the game was something I never knew I needed. It's perfect and I just love how it becomes more and more like home with each passing mission, I just-

47. And so, the hunt for the subfunctions begins. I went from highest level to lowest first so I went with the order of DEMETER, POSEIDON and AETHER. How it went? Well-

48. DEMETER wasn't that hard tho I got lost in the tunnels a bit- Alva is baby

49. Also f*ck Dreadwings, glad I never saw them again after that

50. We finally get to see Beta now! I like her, poor thing, she didn't deserve the Zeniths' treatment of her. Also Aloy, I know you're both traumatized and tired, but please stop being mean to her

51. As I was approached the ruins of Las Vegas to find POSEIDON, I was like "there is water somewhere under that desert, right?" There was. I just wasn't expecting so much of it lmao

52. For me Morlund and crew were a more bearable version of Gildun, I enjoyed hanging out of them, just realized that I never came back for them D:

53. And at last, AETHER. More complicated than I thought it'd be, because I literally had to fell half a mountain to get an event going. Aloy being a little gremlin in this one was so fun, and Kotallo was just so done with her sh*t lmao

54. Speaking of Kotallo, we stan him in this house

55. Why did it have to be a Slitherfang-

56. We're going to San Francisco baby wooo! The things we saw there tho- *shudder*, I felt a very distinct sense of dread walking through the bunker

57. It turns out Ted was further gone than I thought. Not only he has the biggest ego in history, but he also just rid of some of the people who lived in Thebes with him? I'm suddenly worried about what happened to the people in Elysium

58. Is it bad I wanted to mash Ceo's head all throughout the tour of Ted's limbo?

59. I really don't want to know what exactly was the thing I saw in that holo in the office, because whatever it was, it really didn't end well for him (he deserved it tho, f*ck Ted Faro)

60. So yeah, about point 58? Ted Faro's massive head crushed Ceo's... well... Everything. And the other guy just fell into the lava. Big yikes for both of them

61. We are now good with Beta it seems, you could say that we are close now, I like that. Sisters!

62. Aloy and the squad ready to force HEPHAESTUS into the found family against its will 😎

63. When the Zeniths bust through the roof after capturing HEPHAESTUS: This is why we can't have nice things!

64. I'm in- genuine shock guys. He's dead. Varl's f*cking dead. And Beta and GAIA are gone too. Aloy swore to protect her and she failed. Aloy must feel like she failed both of them and that's as rock bottom as it can get, just great

65. Tilda. She's sus. I don't trust her.

66. Not gonna lie guys, I almost cried at the talk Aloy had with Zo about Varl. And she is with his child too?!

67. Damn, someone's gonna have to tell Sona now. I feel bad for her you know. First she lost Vala, and now her other child too, that's just so f*cking sad

68. Another reason why Varl dying was so impactful was that he was there since the beginning, you know? He followed Aloy into the forbidden ruins of the Old Ones back in the Sacred Lands. He followed her to Meridian to fight a threat he admits that he can't really understand, but he did that anyways. He tracked Aloy all the way out to the middle of nowhere to help her with her mission of finding GAIA. He found Aloy in the aftermath of Latopolis. He was so willing to come and help Aloy investigate the mysterious signal. He just trusted and cared for her and the rest of his friends so f*cking much, and he ultimately paid for it

69. "Can't I just mourn for the loss of my friend?" It was so heartbreaking to hear Erend say that-

70. While still dealing with the loss of a great friend, the team must still move on and find a way to stop the Zeniths for good. Using a small gift Beta gave us back in GEMINI and the knowledge Tilda provided us with, it's time to put an end to Regalla's rebellion...

71. WE CAN FLY, HOLY SH*T- (damn that escalated quickly)

72. In the most badass way you can imagine, Aloy swooped with her trusty Sunwing down in the battlefield between Hekarro's army and Regalla's and destroyed her machines

73. And then we finally face Regalla head on. Her boss fight was kinda like HFW's equivalent to Helis', but meaner, b*tchier and harder, it took forever lmao

74. With Sylens' uncovered plan foiled, Aloy gets to meet him again and makes a deal with him...

75. To close, Tilda and Sylens seem to be a match made in hell, nothing can possibly go wrong with these two in the same room s/

•••

Tomorrow I'm finishing my first playthrough of the game (my gaming method is first playthrough being a speedrun of the story and the second and following playthroughs being a more loose and slow play of it with the side quests and activities and everything), so expect another blog on my thoughts on the finale too, though probably it won't be as long as this post since I wrote my thoughts on like 85% of the story lmao

I probably missed lots of stuff in this writedown but if I add them I can't be bothered to edit the numbers so I leave it be.

As of now it was great experience, tho I'm a little bummed out that the first gameplay trailer we got of HFW wasn't even in the story! Is it even in the game at all? Guerilla, pls explain-

I will gladly hear people's opinions, either on the game or on my own takes on it, I just really need to talk about the game.

What were your thoughts on it?

[withoneheadlight]

Fic Writer Questions

I was tagged by @neonponders, thank you so much, love! 🔅🔅🔅💓💓

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have a few accounts? xD I’ve got 23 in the one I’m using now, but it's all very tiny.

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

54,159

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

mmmm…

Game of Thrones

Supernatural

Teen Wolf

Harry potter

Pacific rim

Stranger Things

And a few minor fandoms

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

‘That’s how you close an open wound’ | ‘Kinda wanna make us happen’ | ‘It burns in my tongue’ | ‘The Buckley-Hargrove dilemma’ | ‘Forget the paths written in the palm of your hand’

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I always, always try to. Sometimes It might take me a little while to get to things but I try to never forget to answer. I honestly appreciate the effort it takes to leave a comment or a note or tags in a reblog, and I also try to always answer to those. I think it’s important to show to that person how much it means to you that they’ve taken the time to reach out. Because it is so important to the writer. So important it can even be determinant for us to keep on writing.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Uff. It was a Ned/Robert, for Game of Thrones (more like Asoiaf). And I basically cried the whole time. I still do, when I re-read it. I managed to actually capture something, in that one.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Sometimes? I wrote a Supernatural/Lost Boys thing back in the day that’s still 2? 3? Chapters from being finished? Hopefully one day. And I have not as much a crossover as an ‘inspired on’ the Goonies universe Teen Wolf fic where Derek and Stiles go to Stiles’ mom natal town to investigate a polish ghost pirate ship while falling in love. And a tiny harringrove /Men in Black au where Agent S and Agent B end up paired with a demo-puppy.

Wich one's the craziest, I honestly don't know. All of them feel pretty ??? to me! xD

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeh, a few times. Basically just bc of writing m|m, of bc my 'awful writing' or for catboy!Steve xD.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yep. I’ve always considered myself more smut writer than anything else. Now I guess I’m a smut writer with pretensions xD. (Truth be told, when I started writing I didn't imagine I would be capable of writing anything more than that). So I wasn’t actyally writing that much smut when I landed on harringrove. I was more focused on the pretensions (aka the gosh pirate ship fic). But harringrove and their chemistry hit me hard, I literally put aside everything else and started writing them like crazy, including lots of smut bc hfahfsafhfhsifhs. Another reason is that it’s hard for me to keep other kinds of stories short, but smut not that much (I get an idea for an slightly emotionally charged scene I like and I suddenly feel the need to write 10k for it minimum). So I focused more on smutty stuff when I jumped into this language, as a way to have something finished on my hands, feel like I was making some kind of progress (BUT ALSO: THE CHEMISTRY).

And I guess my smut comes in diametric opposites, or at least that’s how I perceive it. Plain, straightforward smut, or heavily (in my head, at least) emotional smut. I’M IN LOVE WITH the way we can use touch and slow pace and physical sensations and glances to enhance what we’re saying about emotions in a sexual scene.

Also, and contradictorily, smut is so hard to write sometimes for me! So another good thing is that when I finish one smutty story I suddenly feel like a can write anything! Haha.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeh. A few times. Both Sterek oneshots :(.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yess! <3<3<3< To Chinese and Russian and English and I <3<3<3<3<3<3<33<3<3<3<

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Was about two once, with a friend. But sadly both out lives became real busy, so didn’t. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be cut for it, but I wanted to test it.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

The last ship I land on always feels like my fav to me. But it might be true in this case. Bc yeah, harringrove.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ufff, too many.

What are your writing strengths?

Uh. Eh. Well. I hopeguess sometimes it sounds good? I can’t control that in eng as much as i do in spa bc I don’t have any real knowledge of the phonology but, well. I try. And that’s one of the aspects I put more thought/work into because I LOVE that.

Sometimes I like my dialogue and sometimes I like my pacing/rhythm. Sometimes I feel like I’ve managed to convey/describe one feeling the way I wanted to.

I dunno. I try to keep my head in a the ‘get the work done’ space not as much as in the ‘is good’. Not easy but, again, try is the key word in here.

I rely a lot in the editing process but I think I’m actually good at that. At least, when I finish, I like the prettified version way more than the ‘raw’ one.

What are your writing weaknesses?

My writing reads the same way my brain works: in a cluttered, messy way. And I don’t like it but. I feel like I can’t change it. Can control it, sometimes. I manage to keep the ‘too much’ at bay but other times it just wins me. I also keep rolling my eyes at how sticky-sweet I can get and despise the way I keep repeating formulas and sentence structures (I feel you @neonponders ) but. Ugh. They just. Happen? Gah.

But! I actually feel more at peace with all that than it might look like xD. ‘Cause the alternatives is not writing and that I cannot do so 🤷‍♂️

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Ahhh, I LOVE IT! Started doing it with the kegboys, basically to treat myself XD, and I’ve got it in a few wips and also in this dumb thing I wrote. I think it’s fun, and it also adds certain feeling of expansion to the world the characters live in, helps us remember there’s more (people, places, types of lives and ways of communicating and meanings) aside from the ones represented in the scene/wholeness of the story. I’m aware that too much can be confusing and tiring for the reader, but not more than a bit is needed, really. Also, can be used to induce some fun misunderstandings xD.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Some fantasy book series I was reading at the moment, during my ‘epic fantasy’ phase xD.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably one supernatural fic I wrote ages ago. It isn’t particularly well written or anything. But was one of the first longer-ish things I wrote. And I still feel proud about that one. And I always felt so happy writing Theon Greyjoy, so I really love the things I wrote for him. And the ship fic, again, if I ever finish it! Except I feel like I can’t stop writing harringrove.

I’m tagging! @memes-saved-me @edith-moonshadow @disdaidal @dyingontheharringrovehill @wherearetheplums @c0bblenygma @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger @pretty-bratty @ghostofjellyfishforgotten

[writinginthesecrettrees]

20 Questions

@tintentrinkerin @wincestismyheart thanks for tagging me on this!

1. Why did you choose your url?

Because I like writing and secret places in the trees. I’m not that deep 😅

2. Any sideblogs? If you do, name them and say why you have them.

@sassyinthesecrettrees is my not-so-secret sastiel sideblog, because I really wanted to keep this one wincest (and daddycest) focused. Winkline counts as honorary wincest & daddycest.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Since... 2017, 2018 ish? A decent amount of time.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Nope. I don’t queue stuff except for special occasions. So if I’m posting, I’m on.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

To write and post wincest. And try more explicit writing.

6. Why did you choose your icon?

because it me!

7. Why did you choose your header?

Because it’s a mossy magic forest and that goes with my ~✨aesthetic💖~

8. What's your post with the most notes?

I dunno.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

Lots!

10. How many followers do you have?

Lots!

11. How many people do you follow?

~150 last I checked.

12.  Have you ever made a shitpost?

Aren’t all my posts shitposts?

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

Eh. I check it pretty regularly.

14. Have you ever had a fight/argument with another blog? Who won?

Yes. Nobody won; it was a blog fight on tumblr. I’m still mad tho.

15. How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts?

Irritated. Especially the ones that say “I don’t care if it doesn’t fit your blog’s theme, you have to reblog this.” Like, you don’t know me, you don’t know my life, you don’t know what kind of activism I practice offline. If I want to make a serious post I will, but in general tumblr time is destress time. Escape time. And that’s needed for mental health.

16. Do you like tag games?

Love ‘em!

17. Do you like ask games?

Absolutely!

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I can’t answer this because I know I’ll leave someone out because my brain, she forgets things, but I’ve got a few mutuals I would consider tumblr famous and I’m so very honored to be mutuals with them!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Nope. Not crushing on anyone but <rsj> right now.

20. Tags?

Anyone who wants to do this (i’m super lazy lately) because I’d be interested in seeing anyone’s answers! (pls tag me so I can!!!)

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Scarlet Fever Ch.15 Emily Agreste (Part 1)

Summary: Endings and Beginnings.

Notes: Boy those were a lot of loose ends to tie up.

Ah, Emilie does Not make an appearance. It's more because she represents family.

------------------------

"I didn't realize you felt so overwhelmed until Princess Justice pointed it out."

"Yeah, but I didn't realize how much you were struggling until I found out who you were."

"It's not like I would have let you in even if you asked."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask."

"You were just following the rules."

"Lot of good that did, huh?"

"... I hate how much I failed you with the Snake."

"I'm sorry I put you in that position."

"I didn't say no."

"Adrien, if you showed up and said you trusted me with a Miraculous I would've jumped for joy!"

"Believe me. I was tempted."

"I never should've let you sacrifice yourself for me."

"From what I remember you usually didn't have much say."

"Exactly! You got hit because I couldn't get out of the way in time!"

"That's not how I see it."

"You getting hit was never okay."

"Better than the alternative."

"Not to me."

Adrien stared at the ceiling that still felt too close as the dream, or memories rather, faded. As tempting as it was to stay in bed and go back to sleep the blinds were pulled and sunlight was streaming in. And he was cursed, as his friends put it, with being a morning person.

Making his way to the restroom Adrien splashed water on his face and ran his wet hands through his hair to fix his bedhead. Combing it into his usual style. He paused, staring at his reflection in the mirror... At the model perfect look Gabriel had insisted on for years... Adrien ran his fingers through it, ruining it. Letting his locks fall in a decidedly Chat Noir-ish manner.

A knock on the bathroom door pulled Adrien out of his thoughts. "Bro, breakfast!" Nino called.

"Be right out!" Adrien hurried through the rest of his routine. His hair the only significant difference.

Plagg phased through the wall. "I dunno, Adrien," he started without preamble. "Turtle boy's kid brother is quite a handful."

Adrien smiled, scratching at the kwami's chin. "You're a handful too, Plagg."

"Yeah, but it's different when I do it!"

Chuckling, Adrien offered his pocket and Plagg flew in. Grumbling about tiny humans.

"Sleeping Beauty!" Nino exclaimed as Adrien sat next to him.

Pressing his lips together Adrien gave his best friend a mock glare. "That is not catching on."

"Oh, yes it is dude!" Nino stuffed his grinning mouth with baghrir. Butter and syrup almost dripping onto him.

Lips twitching into a smile despite himself Adrien reached for his own. "Where's Noël?"

"Folks took him to school," Nino replied around a mouthful.

"Yes!" Plagg flew out of Adrien's pocket and made a beeline for the fridge. "Camembert here I come!"

Shaking his head in fond exasperation Adrien ran a finger absentmindedly along the rim of his plate. M. and Mme. Lahiffe were kind enough to offer their home and let Nino take a few days off school. Nino insisted he think of it as an extended sleepover but... "I wanted to thank them for-"

Suddenly, Nino was leaning against him and wrapping an arm around Adrien's neck, pulling him close. "Dude, that's the fifth time you've said that."

"I'm just really grateful!" Adrien insisted, pushing him off.

"Believe me. They know."

Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. The Lahiffe household was more than he could've hoped for. Especially with everything on the news. Gazing at Nino, the memory of a glowing purple butterfly came to the forefront. "To you too. For what you did."

Eyes widening for a moment Nino adjusted his cap, cheeks darkening. "What're best friends for?"

Adrien smiled softly. Tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "You are the best. Y'know that, right?"

Nino wrapped his arms around Adrien in a  proper hug. "Back atcha, bro."

Returning the gesture, Adrien held him tight as his heartbeat spiked. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"Flatterer," Nino scoffed.

"Always."

Clearing his throat, Nino removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Eat up, dude! Don't want to keep the Gorilla waiting. We got a big day ahead."

"...Yeah," Adrien agreed. "We do."

 ----------

"Don't be bemused! It's just the news! The trial of the century is coming to a close. Disgraced fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, who's terrorized Paris as the supervillain Papillon for the past two years, will finally face justice. The crown court is expected to reach their verdict later today. His son, fifteen year old Adrien Agreste, could not be reached for comment-"

Marinette pressed mute and turned away from the living room television. She hated that they had to mention Adrien like that. Like being Gabriel's son was the only description that mattered. Still, maybe she should bake Nadja some pastries as a thank you for pushing back against the idiots who wanted to lump Adrien in with Gabriel.

As a parent, as a reporter, Nadja had torn into anyone that even suggested Adrien was anything except a victim of his own father. On live television no less!

Just the memory of the press conference Ladybug called for the specific purpose of vouching for Adrien made her blood boil. If only they knew. Ungrateful jerks.

Tikki looked up from her place on the table, brow furrowing at her holder's tension. "Are you alright, Marinette?"

Sighing, Marinette glanced back at the screen. Slowly unclenching her fists. They were showing footage of his testimony again. "I'm worried about Adrien."

"Of course you are." Sabine set a plate of macarons next to Tikki. Who took the liberty of grabbing one. "That young man is going through something terrible very publicly. No wonder you're worried about him."

"Maman!" Marinette covered her face with her hands. "Saying it out loud doesn't make it better!"

Sabine gave her daughter a bittersweet smile. "Beating around the bush won't help."

Marinette groaned into her palms.

"But," Sabine continued, placing her hands on Marinette's, "you and all his other friends are making sure Adrien doesn't go through it alone."

Lowering her arms, Marinette looked down. "I... haven't been doing much, really."

"Marinette!" Tikki scolded. "What you've done for Adrien isn't nothing! You've talked to him, listened to him, been there for him. You're doing everything you can, Marinette!"

Sabine nodded, taking a seat next to her daughter. Holding their hands in her lap. "Even Ladybug has limits."

Marinette's mouth twisted ruefully. "I know."

"You know it here." Sabine tapped Marinette's forehead. "But here," Sabine pointed at Marinette's heart, "still has to catch up."

Her eyes stung as Marinette let herself fall into her maman's embrace. "I wish I could do more."

"Oh, honey." Sabine kissed her forehead. "I am so proud of the compassionate young woman you are. But you can't fix everything. More importantly it isn't your responsibility to fix everything."

Marinette opened her mouth to protest but Sabine laid a finger on her lips.

"She's right, Marinette." Tikki floated up to nuzzle against her holder's cheek. "What you're doing is already enough. More than enough. You're so kind to everyone else. Be kind to yourself."

Marinette didn't know when her tears fell but it didn't matter. For the first time since she donned the mantle of Ladybug, Marinette let herself be a girl crying into her mother's arms.

 ----------

"Marinette!" Alya almost knocked them both over as she squeezed a little too tightly. "It's been forever, girl!" Noticing the red in Marinette's eyes she frowned. "You okay?"

Marinette nodded. "I'm fine," And it didn't feel like a lie. She smiled at Alya's familiar worry. "It's only been a day."

"Like I said, forever."

Tikki poked her head out of Marinette's purse. "Good morning, Alya."

Eyes sparkling, Alya restrained herself from gushing. "Tikki!" she whisper-shouted. Mostly. "Good to see you. Any chance we'll be meeting your friends again?"

All things considered Alya had taken Marinette being Ladybug rather well. She had been more concerned with why Marinette was akumatized and how she could help. It was a relief, really. That Marinette didn't need to lie to her best friend anymore.

"I'm sure Trixx would be happy to." Tikki smiled at Alya's enthusiasm.

"If Fu ever lets go of that box again," Sabine muttered. She waved goodbye to Tom who was left in charge of the bakery.

"Maman!" Despite weeks of her mother being very vocal about Master Fu's flaws Marinette was still scandalized by her critique of the Guardian.

"Don't 'maman' me. You know it's true. The only reason he didn't take back all of his fancy jewelry is because Oblivio helped us out." Sabine smiled at Alya.

Cheeks darkening, Alya smiled back. It felt odd to be praised for something she used to be ashamed of.

Marinette gently squeezed her arm. "Thanks for that."

"Hey, you used the Butterfly. Me and Nino just aimed." Alya wasn't sure how hard it was to tweak Oblivio's power so they could target specific memories instead of erasing everything at once. But she wouldn't have wanted anyone besides Marinette on the other side of the telepathic link.

There were a lot more people that needed their memories adjusted than Alya thought. Sure, Gabriel and Nathalie needed to forget who Ladybug and Chat Noir were. But there was also everyone in the locker room when the akuma swarm came.

Marinette bumped playfully into Alya, lips twitching into a smile. "Never thought I'd be glad to see Oblivio again."

Alya wrinkled her nose. "That makes three of us." Looking from right to left to make sure no one was in hearing range Alya leaned in close. "I can't believe you have a superhero therapist!"

"Eh, not the weirdest thing to happen this month." Marinette was just glad she didn't need to keep Ladybug a secret from someone else.

"Did you, y'know, use Ladybug for that?"

"Actually, it was Adrien that got us an interview with her in the first place."

Before Alya could respond Kagami's car turned the corner. The door opening for them as the driverless vehicle pulled up to the curb.

"Marinette, Alya, Sabine," Kagami greeted as they all piled in. "And Tikki," she added as the kwami floated out of Marinette's purse. "...Where is Anansi?"

"Kicking butt. She's a kickboxer," Alya elaborated at Kagami's confused look. "Can't reschedule this time. Has to fight or she forfeits."

Kagami nodded in understanding. "Your sister is smart enough to know that one does not back down without giving it your all."

Marinette straightened as Kagami's eyes landed on her. She thought that might be referring to something besides fighting but it was hard to tell. Reading Kagami was always difficult.

"I can't believe I'm finally going to meet the Guardian!" Alya exclaimed. Sabine's sentiments barely putting a dent in her enthusiasm. "You think he's up for answering a few thousand questions?"

Kagami smiled despite herself. Her phone chimed and she frowned at the text. "We have to make a stop first."

 ----------

Nino hugged Alya and fist bumped Kagami. His eyes were tense despite the smile he gave them. "Hey, Mari."

Marinette's brow furrowed. "Nino." She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Is he...?"

Nino nodded, pointing his thumb behind his back. "Up ahead."

Taking a deep breath Marinette stepped into the cemetery proper.

The Gorilla was standing guard as usual. Spotting her, he gave Marinette a nod and let her pass. Walking further away to give them some privacy.

Adrien was standing rigidly in front of Emilie's grave.

What should she say? What could she say? Marinette cleared her throat. "Nino says you didn't want to have a funeral?"

Adrien shook his head, the first sign that he noticed her presence. "We- I already buried her once. Mourned her once. It's... not exactly easy the second time but..." He took a breath. It was shaky. "Um, the lawyer read me her will." His voice shook too. "M-maman didn't want- Sh-she didn't want..." Tears built up in his eyes. "What Gabriel did to her!" They flowed freely down his face. "Maman wanted to rest."

Marinette rushed forward and pulled Adrien close, letting him bury his face in her shoulder.

"Sh-she wanted to rest!" His voice broke as he breathed out the words.

Pushing down the disgust she felt towards Gabriel, Marinette focused on the boy in her arms. Rubbing circles into his shaking back. Soothing him, being there for him. Letting him spill his tears without comment. His breathing slowly evening out.

Sooner than she expected Adrien straightened, wiping at his eyes. "Thanks, I... I needed that."

Marinette swallowed. "A-anytime."

Adrien had cried more in the past few weeks than he had in the past year... That probably wasn't healthy. Something else to tell his therapist. "God. One of these days I'm going to stop crying on you!"

"I hope not," Marinette's mouth said before her brain could overanalyze it. Her eyes widened. "I mean- I don't want you to keep crying! That is- You can cry however much you want! Wait, no, I mean-"

Adrien smiled fondly at the familiar sound. The vise in his chest loosening its hold.

"Don't laugh at me!" Marinette pouted.

That only made his gaze soften further. "I missed you."

Pink dusting her cheeks, Marinette turned to avoid looking at him directly. "I missed you, too."

"I've just been so busy," he began.

"With the trial," she nodded.

"And therapy."

"And figuring out the next step with Master Fu."

"And it felt awkward, y'know?" Adrien gestured vaguely.

"To text or something," Marinette agreed.

Adrien blinked as he realized something. "Has it really been a week since we saw each other?"

"Eleven days," Marinette responded immediately. "But! Uh, who's counting?"

"It's odd not fighting akuma with you." Adrien fiddled with his ring.

Marinette's hand instinctively went to one of her earrings. "Not as odd as you being out of school for so long."

Adrien gazed up at the sky, thoughtful.

"... Are you coming back?"

"... Yes." The decision came to him easily. "All of you guys are there. My therapist thinks it's a good idea to be close to my support network. And Chloe's already offered to pull some strings so I'm not swarmed by paparazzi every day."

"So weird for Chloe to use her evil powers for good," Marinette muttered.

Adrien's lips twitched. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that."

"She probably wants to attach a helicopter pad to the school roof," Marinette joked.

"I talked her out of it."

Marinette choked a bit at that. Glancing at Adrien, she could see the tension he had when she first walked up to him was all but gone. His smile came easier. But... "If you needed to come here you could've said so. You made Nino worry."

"Ah." Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't know I needed to until this morning."

Ignoring the little voice in her head that panicked at the thought, Marinette grabbed Adrien's hand. His fingers curling around hers. "So you're not just avoiding the meeting we have with the Guardian?"

"Well," he finally grinned. "That too."

"He's not going to take Plagg away, you know. Maman won't let him."

"Ha! No, I don't think she would." Adrien gazed at Emilie's name carved in stone. "... You go ahead. I'll catch up."

Reluctantly, Marinette squeezed his hand before letting go. There was something else she wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come. Not taking her eyes off him until she passed the Gorilla.

Adrien turned back to his mother's grave with a bittersweet smile. "That's her. Ladybug. She's incredible, you'd like her. Stubborn, driven, intelligent. Couldn't ask for a better partner..." He placed a hand on the stone. "I wish you could've met her."

Floating out of Adrien's pocket Plagg laid his paw on top of the boy's hand.

"This is Plagg. He's a smug little troublemaker but that's part of his charm."

Plagg might've commented on Adrien's own troublemaking tendencies if this were any other circumstance. As it was Plagg just nuzzled against Adrien's hand.

A thought took root in Adrien's mind. "...Plagg?"

Ears twitching, Plagg looked up at his kid.

"Can... Can she hear me?"

Oh. Oh.

Plagg hated that question. The answer was never enough. Never as simple as yes or no. Over the centuries he'd lied through his teeth to ease his holders' burdens.

Adrien waited for his answer with trusting, patient eyes.

He swallowed the easy falsehood, burning his throat as it went. "I'll make sure she gets your messages," Plagg promised, ears drooping.

And for the first time in ten thousand years Plagg's holder simply nodded. "Thank you."

"...C'mon, kid," Plagg urged when Adrien didn't say any more. "They're waiting for you."

Sniffling, Adrien rubbed his eyes. "Y-yeah. Right."

Nino hugged Adrien tightly, practically squeezing the air out of his lungs. Kagami was little better. It was impressive how threatening she sounded while prompting Adrien to take care of his mental health. Sabine, by comparison, gave soft hugs and gentle encouragement.

Adrien loved all of it.

 -------------------------

[duhragonball]

Broly for the character ask. Either version, your pick.

This seems... familiar.  Well, when I was a kid I would pick both options in Choose Your Own Adventure Books to see which was better, so I’m gonna do Broly ‘18 now.

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: I’ve got some concerns with Broly ‘18 (see below), but in general I can’t deny that they took the original version and made him a much more interesting character.   The exile from the Saiyan homeworld and Paragus’ revenge scheme are still there, but this Broly doesn’t like to fight, and he doesn’t tap into his hidden potential until well past the point where he can’t control himself.   He’s a Broly you can feel sorry for, which paves the way for a character like Cheelai to feel sorry for him.  

I do sort of like that there’s a canon-ish version of Broly that Goku can hang out with.   As a fanfic writer, I always prefer it when the source material leaves a few doors open, as opposed to just killing everybody in some scorched earth approach. 

Why I don’t: I liked the movie, but I think most of that owes to thoughtful writing, vibrant colors, and great art direction.   This could have been Dragon Ball Super: Android 13, and it still would have been a hit.   They ran with Broly because of the name recognition and to that’s fine, and they did a good job revamping the character to fit this new story, but I’m wary of character reboots in general.    Now we’ve got two Brolys and everyone’s gotta decide which one’s their favorite and who could beat who and I dunno, it becomes a whole thing.  

Like, DC Comics used to do this a lot in the 60′s and 70′s, because they basically decided that their World War II-era comics were set in a separate world from their current stuff, which meant that there had to be two Flashes and two Batmans and so on.    Which was fine for Flash, since those were two different dudes with the same powers, but the Batmen were just the same person, only one was older.   In the 70′s, they did a whole “Death of Batman” story where the old one dies, but it’s utterly meaningless, since the implication is that there’s a infinitude of other Batmen out there, including the one that appears in the monthly Batman comic.  

Of course, that’s not entirely fair, because I never had a beef with the 1986 reboot of Superman, because I wasn’t familiar enough with the older version to mind.    In the same vein, there’s a lot of fans who are totally happy with nuBroly because that’s the first one they got to know, or they just never cared much about the first one.    To each their own.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): To be clear, I did enjoy the DBS: Broly movie.   It set lofty goals and achieved them, and making a sympathetic Broly was one of its successes.   I don’t want to make it  sound like I hate the movie, but the premise still sort of irks me.   

Favorite season/movie: I guess I already covered this.    Wait, I was supposed to do a scene.  Uh... I guess the part where he beats the shit out of Frieza for an hour.

Favorite line: I don’t remember him saying a whole lot.   I guess I’ll go with that story he told about Baa’s ear, since that’s about the most talking he got to do.

Favorite outfit: He kind of only had the one.    I’ll just stick with that.

OTP: Let’s be real, because I am keeping it real.    Cheelai was the best thing about that movie.

I do enjoy the implied romance the movie has, where it’s pretty obvious to everyone that these two are supposed to hook up at some point, but it’s never explicitly spelled out.    They rescue each other-- Cheelai saves Broly three times-- and it’s clear that they’re interested in one another on some level, but that’s as far as it goes.  

Brotp: I dunno, Leemo, I guess.  

Head Canon: I’d like to think they left Vampa soon after the end of the movie and found something better to do.   Luffasworld, for instance.  I meant to blow that planet up, but I never got around to it.    Broly could run and play there, I guess.   I think I got rid of all the robot ghosts, but it’s been a while.

Unpopular opinion: Eh, I think I already covered this.   I’m not thrilled with Broly ‘18 being so strong that nothing short of Gogeta Blue can shut him down.  

A wish: I don’t know if Funimation is interested, but if they redubbed all four Broly movies with the new VA from FighterZ, that wouldn’t break my heart at all.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: FFS, we don’t need Broly ‘32 to show up and make this even more complicated.    I can just see him, rolling up on his skateboard and asking Whis and SSJ5 Goku Magneta what the “haps” is.

5 words to best describe them: He wears a green bathmat.

My nickname for them: Broly ‘18.

[glockmonkey]

Right-Hand Cat

A jmart fic! Cross-posted to ao3 here.

Jon finds a cat behind the safehouse: or, rather, a cat finds him.

Spoilers for everything up to ep.192!

Content warnings:

Cats, worry over nutrition/weight (of a cat), apocalypse (plus general eyepocalypse stuff), mild body horror, brief depiction of paranoia/being triggered (not sure what it counts as), following/stalking (by cats), brief worry over parasites (staged), swearing, food, worry over disease (unresolved)

----

Jon was trying to make use of the wild blackberries behind the safehouse, but this damned cat wasn’t letting him. 

He’d nearly dropped the pail several times at this point, but the cat wouldn’t stop nagging him. Twisting in and out of his ankles, laying on the ground where he should have been kneeling. On one occasion, it had tried to get into his pail.

Jon had shooed him away hurriedly. He wasn’t sure if cats could eat blackberries.

It had been over an hour, and still the cat stayed. Jon nudged it gently with his foot so he could reach an obscured clump. 

“Made a new friend?” Martin called from the back door. Jon blinked at the light from the open door.

“Ha, ha,” said Jon sarcastically. 

“You should probably come inside. It’s getting pretty dark.” 

“You’re probably right,” said Jon, standing up. The cat stood with him. “Copycat,” Jon muttered, and dusted himself off. 

The bucket was heavier than he’d thought: he hoped the plastic didn’t crack under the weight of its contents.

Martin hummed upon seeing this. “Maybe we have too many.”

“Eh. Could always make a pie, or something.”

“Settling into that cottage lifestyle, are you?” said Martin. “Your friend seems to be, too.”

“What?” asked Jon, and then spared a look at his feet, where the cat had reappeared, squeezing its way into the door. “Oh, no you don’t.” He slid the door shut.

“Why not? It’s just a cat.” Martin looked at the cat, its sullen face pressed against the glass between them.

Jon shut the blinds, blocking the cat’s gaze completely. “Could have rabies, or something.”

“Yeah,” said Martin, his face falling. “I guess.”

----

The cat came back the next day. And the day after that.

Every time Jon stepped outside, there it was. In all its tuxedo glory.

Jon shut the door every time, but he couldn’t help but notice how scrawny it looked.

He couldn’t stop himself. He put two cans of fish into their trolley at the store one night. Then he put in some more.

“Tuna?” asked Martin, browsing the store’s limited amount of soups.

“Why not? We have crackers.”

Martin smirked, and Jon pretended that he hadn’t.

The walk back to the safehouse from the store was peaceful enough, as it were. The cool October air was still, for once, but the air was thick with humidity. Jon began to wish he had brought an umbrella.

Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps behind him. He jumped, swiveling in his place, swinging his bag of groceries in defense.

Behind him was not some eldritch monster. It was a woman: middle-aged, crouched on the ground in front of a large black-and-white cat. He felt Martin’s hand on his arm, steadying him. He sighed in relief.

“Oh!” said the woman, as if realizing the panic she’d caused. “I’m sorry, I just-” she gestured towards the cat aimlessly. “I haven’t seen this kitty in a few weeks. She was following you, and I figured-” she stood up suddenly. “I’m Lindsey.”

Martin shook her proffered hand politely. “Martin. This is Jon.”

Jon tried for a friendly smile. The shock hadn’t quite worn off, so he figured it looked more like a grimace.

If Lindsey was offended, she didn’t show it. “Nice to meet you, Jon. Do you know this cat?”

“Oh, um.” Jon looked down at the cat, who was circling around his legs again. “Sort of? Is she yours?”

“No, not really,” Linsey said. “She used to belong to one of the teachers here, but after he passed, she’s just been wandering. We’ve tried to rehome her, but she never really seemed to take to anywhere.”

“Poor thing,” whispered Martin.

“She’s friendly, if you want to pet her,” said Linsey.

Martin kneeled on the ground. In an instant, the cat was there, purring and rubbing her face on his hand. Martin cooed.

“Traitor,” muttered Jon, and Linsey laughed. Jon couldn’t help but be reminded of Rosie, all the way back in London, and then he banished the thought.

“Does she have a name?” asked Martin.

“Depends who you ask,” said Lindsey. “I always call her ‘Sasha,’ though. That was her original name, anyhow.”

“Sasha,” murmured Jon, and sat down beside Martin on the sidewalk.

“Oh, dear,” said Lindsey suddenly. “I just felt a drop.”

A second bead of water fell on Cat-Sasha’s head, and she dove under Martin’s legs. He swiftly picked her up and zipped her into his jacket.

“Fleas,” muttered Jon halfheartedly.

“You two need a ride home?”

“No, thank you,” said Jon.

Cat-Sasha meowed in agreement.

“Alright, nice meeting you!” said Lindsey, and then she was gone.

“So, we’re keeping her, right?” asked Martin.

“I guess,” said Jon, a little too quickly. Martin smiled.

----

Since Jon had given in to Sasha, another cat had graced their presence. A tabby, this time, wandering their small garden.

Jon refused to do anything but leave food out for her, but Sasha mewed pitifully in her direction anytime the tabby appeared. Jon took to shutting the blinds at most hours, making the safehouse rather dreary.

“We can’t take in every stray cat we find,” he muttered, more to himself than to Martin.

“But they’re friends,” said Martin mournfully.

“They can still do cat things outside,” said Jon. “No reason we have to adopt her. She’s probably lived outside for a while.”

He still felt guilty when it rained, though.

----

Jon and Martin had taken to walking, in the past month. In the afternoons, mostly, when the sun was still out and Jon didn’t have to wear much more than a jumper. He still wore gloves, though, partly because he seemed to be permanently cold, and partly because Martin had made them.

It was nice, really. The hills rolling in the distance. His hand in Martin’s. The highland cows.

Plus, it meant they weren’t seeing the same safehouse and garden all the time.

Ahead of them, a man waved. Jon waved back, hesitantly.

“Have you met many of the neighbours yet?” asked Martin.

“Not really,” said Jon. “Except Lindsey. Have you?”

“No,” Martin sighed. “Haven’t had much inclination since, you know.” The Lonely, he didn’t say.

“Ah,” said Jon. He squeezed Martin’s hand tighter. It had been weeks since Martin had last Faded, but there was always a chance. Martin squeezed back.

“The streak in your hair still hasn’t faded,” Martin whispered sadly. Jon knew he still felt badly about what happened in the Lonely. He wished he didn’t. He wished he could - well. Know the guilt away, somehow.

“Neither has yours,” Jon said instead. “We match.”

“We match,” said Martin, smiling slightly.

“Not like it makes much difference on me, though,” said Jon, adjusting a pin in his grey-streaked hair.

“I suppose not.”

Jon caught sight of something in the distance. Something brown, and bulky. “Cows,” he said to Martin.

“Cats.”

“What?”

“Cats,” repeated Martin, smirking. “Behind you.”

“I’m not looking,” he said.

“You should.”

“If I don’t look, they’re not there.”

A furry, tabby form butted his ankle with its head.

Jon groaned, and looked.

Behind him stretched a small army of cats, gathered behind them both.

“Like a fucking Ghibli character, I am,” he whispered incredulously.

Martin gaped.

“A goddamn line. Like ducklings,” Jon went on.

“And a General to lead them,” said Martin, scratching Cat-Sasha’s tabby friend behind the ears.

“You did not just name the kitty stalker.”

“She’s made her point. I think this is a cat resume.”

“To be adopted?”

Martin grinned. The General meowed expectantly.

Jon scooped the cat into his arms reluctantly, where she promptly scampered to perch on his shoulder. “No more cats after this.”

“Yes, sir.”

----

Jon hadn’t seen many of the garden’s cats since the Change. Those that remained were wrong, and Jon was glad when they finally disappeared.

----

“Are you sure this is it?” Martin asked nervously.

“Yes, Martin,” said Georgie. “I think I know where to find cat hell. It’s not hard to miss.”

“Just checking. This place feels, I dunno.” Martin pulled his jacket tighter around himself. “Human hell-ish. Lots of screaming.”

“Lots of people are scared of cats,” said Melanie. “They’re very murderous.”

“That sure gives me hope for our field trip,” said Martin glumly. “Lead the way, Mrs. Frizzle.”

“I’ve got the earrings for it, so I’ll consider that a compliment,” said Georgie. “Be warned, though. The cats aren’t… quite right.”

“We know,” said Jon. “The safehouse had a few, before everything really got into place.”

“I’m sorry,” said Georgie.

“It’s okay.”

Jon heard a shriek from up ahead.

Melanie winced. “Doesn’t get much easier, does it?” she whispered to Georgie.

“No,” said Georgie. “It doesn’t.”

“Are they all that tall?” asked Martin, peering over the ridge they were cresting.

“What, you’re afraid of dinosaur cats?” asked Melanie playfully.

“I’ll have you know that dinosaur cats are bloody terrifying and oh my god why didn’t you warn us-”

“I did!” protested Georgie.

“The safehouse cats were like bad putty creations, not forty feet tall!”

Jon squinted into the distance. He could see, faintly, a tabby and a tuxedo cat - likely torturing some poor human.

“General?” he called. “Sasha?”

A booming mrrp? sounded across the clearing.

“Admiral?” yelled Melanie, and a furry form came bounding towards them, quickly followed by two others.

“Jesus,” Martin breathed.

“Cats!” exclaimed Georgie delightedly, amidst the chaos.

The cats came to a skidding halt in front of the ridge. Melanie put her hand out expectantly, and The Admiral butted it with his gargantuan head. Georgie followed suit, scratching behind his behemoth ears.

Before Jon and Martin, their two cats sat expectantly. Martin reached out tentatively with his hand to pat Cat-Sasha’s head. Jon worried her purring would cause an avalanche of some sort, but he wasn’t sure those happened anymore, without reason.

He had only just ruffled The General’s fur when he felt a familiar sensation. The Eye.

“I’m sorry, I…” he started, gesturing vaguely.

“It’s okay, Jon,” said Martin. “Go make your statement.”

Jon nodded, and walked away.

[wolfsgravity]

It's so weird

I look back at a fic I wrote with some friends of mine when I was 12-ish, and it was based in the Naruto realm, with our own self-inserts acting as talk show hosts. It was so silly.

Not "funny", because reading back on it, I maybe got two chuckles out of the whole thing.

But it was.. silly, I dunno how else to put it.

Back then, my self-insert was more of an alter-ego. She was everything I wanted to be-- Mature, attractive, wanted (remember as well that I was 12. Yikes).

I wrote in Jiraiya being a creep to me. And honestly, I look back and cringe the hardest at that, and I'm sure he would too.

I'd like to think that instead, he'd see beyond that persona I tried to put on. I wanted attention in the wrong way, and in my current mind, I think he'd have seen past my desperate attempts at 12-freaking-years-old to be sexy and see the hurting child I was. Yeah, he's a pervert, but he's also a fuckin' sage. He's more wise than people give him credit for.

I kind of work that real-life embarrassment into my current Naruto S/I story.

Young S/I Remee is having a rough go of Academy studies, close to graduating but awful at the kunoichi classes their young self was put into (since I was at least outwardly a girl most of my life). A disappointment to their actual parents who were average-level nin of Konohagakure, Remee started looking for attention elseways. They didn't even like the way they looked, but they tried to attract any guy's attention that might give it to them...

Into town from the mountains strides Jiraiya (I put myself to be 20 in Part I of Naruto, so eh I can't figure out the math). He.. well, he's Jiraiya. Highly respected by some adults, but a raging pervert and not exactly ashamed of it. (Also, I don't remember if he was awful to teen girls in canon, but I vehemently refuse that in my headcanons).

So young S/I Remee starts orchestrating ways to get the old sage's skeevy attention. At first, he just ignores it all. There's a child acting too big for 'her' britches, not his fucking circus. But it starts grating at him how frequently they show up. Where are their parents? Why are they trying so hard?

After probably 20-30 separate attempts, the young teen's eyes water up. "Am I that ugly?" they whimper.

He can't decide whether to feel sympathy for the child or annoyance. "Listen, kid, I've got no bearing on how you look. You're a child looking for trouble. What would your parents think?"

"They don't fucking care!" they sob. "If they did, they'd hate me more. I can't even get a dirty old pervert to look at me, I'm just... fucking useless"

Jiraiya sighs, the sympathy outweighing annoyance now. "C'mon, I'm sure you're not useless." He pats the bench next to him, reaching in his pack for a spare shirt they can wear over the overly-revealing shirt they'd donned. He nabs one and hands it to the kid. "Not to sound like a dad, but please cover up, and let's talk til you're feeling better, okay?"

So they tell him their struggles in academy, how they're not cut out to be a kunoichi, how their parents constantly remind them of their failures and their shortcomings, both physically and mentally. Jiraiya listens intently and lets them cry it out. He looks at them when they seem worn from the emotions, so small and tired for a kid. So he does what he can to cheer them up, finally getting them to smile after a little while.

"How's about this, kid. Remee. You meet me here in three days, wearing your normal clothes this time. I'd like to talk to you again. You're a good kid, you just need some encouragement to see it. Maybe I'll bring you a little present. Is that a deal?"

Their eyes lit up, nodding their head with more energy than they'd had moments before. Both of them stood up and Remee handed Jiraiya back his button-up, now looking a little embarrassed without it. He placed a hand on their head and smiled. "You're gonna be alright, kid."