#I don't like being on this train any more than you do

[pandaofsecrets]

This convo got me thinking about how Ozai being a good parent and husband would actually be like (and how little that would actually change things), so here's the basics of the AU. It follows comics continuity because I think it's more impactful that way, and also because I really don't want to write two AUs for the price of one.

Okay, so first of all, how do we get here? Let's say that instead of Ozai becoming narcissistic as a coping mechanism (unlikely, but bear with me), he just kinda gives up trying to "prove his worth" and distances himself from his father and brother, distrusting them and trying to avoid their attention as much as he can.

Anyway, Azulon hears about the prophecy and wants Ozai married to Ursa, which. So much for not attracting attention. Azulon's logic here is that while he does want those strong firebenders, he doesn't want any of Roku's line to actually inherit the throne. So, marrying Ursa to his out-of-favor second son it is.

Needless to say, neither Ozai nor Ursa are exactly jazzed about the marriage. They're both essentially forced into it, and Ursa was already seeing someone, thank you very much. But they both figure that it's for the good of their country and that they can't really leave anyway, so they might as well try to make it work. Ozai works to make Ursa as comfortable as possible, and she cooperates with him as much as she can. A few months or so into the marriage, Ursa is pregnant with Zuko.

This is when Ursa notices that no one is replying to her letters. No one at all. Not Ikem, not her friends, and not even her parents. Like, she knows mail is slow, but it's been almost half a year at this point. Her parents at least should've written back by now. So, she does a little detective work, and puts together that Ozai is intercepting her letters.

Unsurprisingly, Ursa is pissed. She'd just begun to like Ozai, and he went and tore her heart into confetti. Incredibly betrayed (and also hormonal as all fuck), Ursa comes up with the very smart idea of writing a letter to Ikem in which she pretty much confesses to cheating on Ozai, reasoning that would hurt him pretty bad.

As Ursa expected, Ozai gets the letter and barges into the room, demanding to know what the hell she was thinking. "I knew it!" she goes. "I knew you've been intercepting my letters!" Ozai is like "Count yourself lucky it was me. What if it was my father? How would you have even begun to explain this to him?" He goes on to remind her that she was to give up contact with everyone outside of court, including her parents. He doesn't like his father's orders any more than she does, but he has to enforce them. He then burns the letter, telling Ursa that she can see whoever she wants, do whatever she wants, but she had better not let Zuko get caught up in any of it. Ozai makes a point to call Zuko his child, both because Ursa's letter did hurt him, and as a way to imply he cares about Zuko and Ursa doesn't.

A couple of hours later, both are feeling bad about the whole debacle. Ursa goes to see Ozai, who's in the middle of his usual "dealing with his angst by training until he straight-up collapses" routine, and they have a chat. Ozai apologizes for trying to imply she doesn't care about Zuko and for putting her in this position in the first place, and admits that he should've talked to her instead of going behind her back like that. Ursa swears she wasn't trying to get them in trouble, she was just so hurt by his actions that she wasn't thinking straight. Ozai promises her he'll find a way for her to contact and maybe even see her parents, so long as she promises to try and be less reckless. She agrees.

I'm skipping around a lot over things I haven't thought of in detail, so cut to a few years later. Zuko is around 7 and has just started his firebending lessons, Azula is around 5, and everything seems to be going pretty good. And then Azula starts firebending as well. Not only that, but she turns out to be a prodigy. Oops.

Ozai being Ozai, he immediately goes for damage control. He holds back Azula's progress under the pretext that it's going to be better for her in the long run, discourages her from attracting attention, and is generally very cagey whenever the subject of her bending is brought up. This is in sharp contrast to Azulon and to her teachers, who praise her for her talents and encourage her to develop her skills. So, naturally, Azula is really confused. If she's so great, why doesn't her father ever acknowledge it? This is made worse by the fact that Ozai can't really explain to Azula why he does things the way he does. So he just comes off as an unreasonable tyrant, which is. You know. Not at all the impression he wanted Azula to have of him. He knows what it's like to be the secondborn who is disliked by their parent, he never wanted to do that to his own child. It honestly feels like the universe is out to get him at this point.

So Azula becomes increasingly recalcitrant, and Ozai resolves to just give her space for the time being, spending more time with the one child who isn't fighting him at every turn. Seeing this as a rejection, Azula takes whatever pent-up rage she can't direct at Ozai and starts directing it at Zuko, meaning Ozai is put in a position where he has to protect one of his children from the other. Ursa tries her hardest to pick up the pieces, but that just ends with Azula writing her off as well. Azula also becomes aware of the fact that Ozai and Ursa are both pretty much powerless against Azulon, and that's where the fun begins.

It's a crappy situation all around, but it's about to get worse. Lu Ten dies and Iroh is about to return home from the Siege of Ba Sing Se, so Azulon tells Ozai that he has to give Azula to Iroh. Ozai is like, yep, there it is. There's the moment I've been dreading ever since I got married. Because due to the way this whole eugenics experiment worked, his children were never truly his. Azulon's vested interest in them meant Ozai never had any control over his own family, and Zuko and Azula were always going to be taken away from him sooner or later. But before Ozai can say anything, Azulon drops the bombshell on him. He has to kill Zuko, too. Ozai is like, fuck this. He doesn't care that Zuko was a failed experiment or whatever, that's his son. But he knows by now that his father cannot be reasoned with, so he asks Azulon to wait until Iroh comes home, buying himself time to figure out what to do. Surprisingly, Azulon agrees.

Ozai then goes to Ursa and tells her the tale of what just happened. Ursa goes, yeah, no, we can't afford to wait until Iroh comes back. Because even if they did, Zuko would still die. Ozai is like, well, there's gotta be something we can do. And that's when Ursa gets an idea. She briefly considers telling Ozai, but quickly thinks better of it. Patricide is a strong word. She knows Ozai wouldn't approve, so if she wants something done, she's gotta do it herself. Instead, she just says she knows a way, and leaves Ozai to mope.

Next morning, the palace is in chaos. Azulon just kicked the bucket, Iroh is away, and everyone is looking to Ozai for leadership. Ozai has a chat with Ursa and is like "You did this, didn't you?" Ursa is all "I don't know what you're talking about", and Ozai asks her if she really thinks he's that stupid. He then encourages her to get the heck out of Dodge, because someone is definitely going to trace this back to her and then they'll all be in big trouble, her especially. Ursa counters that she's not the same reckless woman she was 8 years ago, and that she made sure to cover all her bases this time, pinning the blame on supposed Earth Kingdom assassins. They sit in silence for a bit, and then Ozai confesses he can't believe Azulon is dead, and that he doesn't know whether to be relieved or to hate Ursa for murdering him. Ursa says that everything she's done, she's done to protect her family.

So Ozai basically becomes interim Fire Lord while waiting for Iroh to come back, and he does a pretty good job, having basically been acting Crown Prince ever since he came of age (with all of the responsibility and none of the credit, because Azulon was a dick like that). From here the AU can go any number of ways, from Iroh immediately taking over as Fire Lord, to him giving up his claim to the title, to Iroh trying to give up his claim and Ozai refusing.

I don't know if I'm ever going to actually write this AU, so I'm leaving this here, I guess? Lmk what you think.

[wosov]

from my family line

It's funny how as a young child you cannot wait to grow up. You cannot wait to make your own rules. You can go to bed when you want, eat all the sweets in the world and make your own way. Then suddenly you are an adult, and you can do all those things, and you don't. You do not particularly know when you made that transition from innocent child to haunted adult. Maybe it was when you were thrown out of your house after your father saw you kissing a girl. He did not stop to console you after your best friend pushed you off her calling you a freak. He wasn’t swayed when you were crying at him to comfort you. He just handed you your kit bag and said you were no daughter of his and you left with a black eye. 

Looking back, you don’t really understand why this bothered you so much. Growing up, you never had a stable childhood. Your mother (if you could still call her that) killed herself when you were 7. There was no conversation and no hug goodbye, I mean she did not even leave a note. You used to get sad thinking about it but now you just feel anger. Anger that she left in such a cowardly way and anger that she left you alone with your father. Your father was a cruel man whose mood could change quicker than the weather. On the most part he left you alone. He let you do whatever you wanted if you stayed out of his way, but if you mix alcohol into that equation then the situation quickly became unpredictable. You could not count the number of times you had ‘walked into a door’ or ‘fallen down the stairs’. That was one of the benefits of playing a contact sport like football, you always had an excuse ready if one of your teachers doubted you. Football has been the one constant in your life, the one thing that gave you stability and happiness if you are being completely honest. You quickly realised you had talent when you were in primary school. You were quick to sign up to any free clubs at school, either before or after the school day. It was a win-win situation as it kept you out of your house in a safe and clean environment and it did not cost anything. Thinking back now, you owe everything to that after-school football program for the opportunities you have been given in your life. It was the coaches who recognised your talent in football and sent you to a local academy. You loved your time there and, in all honesty, it was the last time you were consistently happy. You had a nutritious breakfast and lunch provided for you every day. There was always hot water for showers and of course the facilities for you to improve your football was great. You had hoped to stay there until you were 21 so you would have the necessary qualifications for a job, but it did not work out that way. Nothing in your life ever worked out the way you wanted it to, and you were naive to believe that.  

That about brings you to the present moment as you stand in front of the Arsenal training ground. Your hand clenched around your bag strap as you try and fail to hide your nerves. You wonder how you are good enough for any of this. You wonder what the scout saw in you to have requested you join the team at arsenal. Even going as far as to buy you out at the academy so you had no choice but to go. You know you should be grateful for this opportunity. There are so many players who would jump at the chance to play for a top team in the league. Just as you began to spiral further into a pit of self-doubt, the door to the training grounds opens and you are met with a woman you have come to know as Renee Slegers closely followed by the scout who first took notice of you.  

‘Dylan? We are so thrilled to have you join us here at Arsenal. Come in out the cold, you must be freezing’ she says with a friendly smile.  

hey everyone, this is my first fic i have written so please let me know what you guys think of it and if you want more or something else requested. :)

[ravewulf]

Derek: I need Betas so I don't die or go feral and start killing people.

Scott: Well, you can't because I don't like being a werewolf so nobody else should either.

Derek: But do you want to be in the pack? You can still join the pack.

Isaac: I wanted the strength to stand up against my abusive father who locked me in a chest freezer.

Erica: I wanted a cure for the debilitating condition that's ostracized and publicly humiliated me.

Boyd: I wanted friends and a community to belong to because of my intense loneliness and isolation.

Scott: You're all fucking stupid.

Derek: I don't know how to be an Alpha, I was never supposed to be one and wasn't trained and I have no support or allies with experience.

Deaton: Get fucked.

Pretty much this 👆

Of course, no one is "meant to be" or "not meant to be" an alpha as if it's destiny or some other BS. Scott is proof that you don't need to kill in order to be a bad alpha. I'm also pretty sure Deaton "believed" Scott into being an alpha rather than any merit or effort on Scott's part since he demonstrated a distinct lack of good leadership qualities.

As you rightly pointed out, training, support, and experience are key. Derek had some of the right qualities to start with (putting his pack and BH citizens before himself, taking the responsibility of being an alpha seriously) but had to gain experience the hard way until he got more support. I'm glad Stiles (and nogi!Stiles) recognized Derek as a real alpha even without the red eyes in 3B and season 4 showed that other werewolves still look up to him as a leader regardless of having completely lost his powers at the time.

If anything, it showed that being an alpha doesn't make you a good leader and you don't need to be an alpha to be a good leader (though it helps to have both when you're a werewolf).

[maddie-dog-story-blog]

New You Gym - 19

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Michael watched Kylee as her short frame waddled in front of him, large infantile diaper sagging wetly between her legs. Michael wondered to himself whether she even knew her diaper was wet.

As Michael's eyes lingered on his wife's padded ass, he could feel his member growing, making his pants tighter. Michael knew he should be concerned for his wife and maybe even disgusted by the fact that she can't keep her pants dry. However, Michael could feel a new fantasy being awaken in him.

Imagining Kylee humiliated, diapered, and treated like nothing more than a un-potty-trained toddler made him feel more aroused then he could ever remember.

However, as Kylee turned the corner towards their bedroom, Michael tried to shake off his feelings. He knew that Kylee had to be mortified by the situation, and that it was his job as her husband to support her through the struggle.

Readjusting the new pink gym bag Emily had handed him, he put on as supportive face as he could muster, suppressed his growing arousal as best he could, and followed Kylee into their bedroom.

As Michael walked in, he saw Kylee standing, legs spread, inspecting her diaper closely with both hands. As Michael looked at her, he noticed tears starting to form in her eyes.

"I… I'm… I mean… It… The diaper… It's wet?" Kylee said, turning to Michael confused.

When Kylee went to untape her diaper, she noticed for the first time that she had wet herself sometime during her trip home from the gym. The fact she was unaware she had pissed herself scared her almost more than the fact that her husband was seeing her in a wet diaper.

Michael walked up to Kylee and embraced her in a hug.

"Yeah, baby, it looks like you had another little accident today. But, I'm sure it was just from the stress of the gym. Do you want me to help you get out of… um… that?" Michael said, gesturing vaguely towards Kylee's diaper.

Kylee wanted to say no. She wanted to run away and hide in shame. She wanted to be anywhere else but here, with the man she loved, dressed like this.

But, she also wanted his attention. She craved experiencing that close, vulnerable feeling she had when Julie had changed her diaper earlier that day, with Michael. She also knew that if things kept progressing as Julie told her they would, it wouldn't be long until this was going to be a more common occurrence.

So, with her mind made up, Kylee's cheeks turned red as she answered her husband. "Yes, please," she said.

"Alright, sweetheart, why don't you lay on the floor. Do we have any wipes anywhere?" Michael asked.

Kylee blushed again. "I think you'll find everything you need in my new… uh… gym bag."

Michael grabbed the bag and looked in. It was now his turn to blush.

The pink satchel clearly wasn't the gym bag of an adult. The only thing it could be reasonably described as was a diaper bag.

Despite the warning he'd received from Emily, Michael hadn't really put together that Kylee would be required to wear diapers to the gym for the foreseeable future. The idea of his wife being forced to continue to wear diapers caused his penis to swell again.

"Oh, wow! They really, uh, set you up here," Michael said, grabbing the wipes from his wife's diaper bag while trying to hide his growing erection, "I know Emily said you'd need protection for the gym, but they really set you up with a lot of dia… I mean… protective underwear."

Kylee turned her head to the side, looking away in embarrassment.

"It's okay. Call them what they are… they're diapers," Kylee responded, trying to bravely face her predicament, "How can I call this wet thing wrapped around my ass anything else?"

"Should I grab out another one… uh… diaper? Or, do you think you can keep your panties dry?" Michael asked hesitantly.

Kylee glared at Michael, her embarrassment overtaken by her indignation.

"Can I keep my panties dry? Of course I can! I'm not a child!" Kylee growled.

Michael raised his hands defensively, then gestured towards Kylee's wet groin.

"I mean, it seems like a fair question, given the circumstances," Michael said, a little more confidence shining through in his tone, "I am not the one lying on the floor, waiting for my husband to change me out of a wet diaper."

"Fine! If you're going to act like this, I don't need your help!" Kylee said starting to sit up, face scrunched in disgust as she felt the wet padding surrounding her crotch squelch as she shifted her weight.

Michael, wipes in hand, kneeled down next to Kylee, placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down.

"Oh, hush! No need to throw a tantrum. Lay down so I can get you out of that wet thing then you can put your panties back on," Michael said, his assertiveness growing along with erection.

Being given this excuse to baby his wife really turned him on.

Kylee complied with his direction. As she laid down, she also found that, despite her embarrassment and anger at her situation, she was also being turned on by the "Daddy" energy her husband was starting to exhude.

"Fine," Kylee said as she laid back down with an exaggerated huff.

"Good girl," Michael responded.

Those words sent a shiver through Kylee's pussy.

Michael patted Kylee's diapered crotch twice and stated, "Let's do this."

Michael carefully ripped open the tapes of Kyle's diaper and pulled the front of the diaper open. The smell of ammonia and rash cream quickly hit his nose, causing him to briefly scrunch his face in disgust before continuing on. What he saw when he opened the diaper though, he wasn't expecting.

"Kylee! Your skin is so red and angry down here? What's going on? Is this what's causing your sudden accidents? Do we need to see a doctor?" Michael asked, staring at the diaper rash covering his wife's most intimate areas but too inexperienced in diapering to know what he was looking at.

A fresh wave of embarrassment pulsed through Kylee, who suddenly remembered the diaper rash she had from her earlier, poopy diaper. Julie's cream really worked wonders on her discomfort, Kylee thought to herself.

"No, it's, it's not causing my accidents," Kylee said, quietly. "I, I fell asleep in a diaper earlier at the gym and woke up with a… uh… rash because of it."

"A diaper rash? Seriously, Kylee?" Michael guffawed. "Let's check your bag. Ah, here it is, some rash cream," Michael said, pulling out some diaper rash cream from Kyle's gym bag. "Are you sure you don't need another diaper? How many times have you wet yourself today?"

Kylee looked up at Michael as defiantly. "Only a couple! But it was just because of stress at the gym! I don't need another, stinking diaper!"

Micheal couldn't help but laugh to himself a little. Kylee, despite her demand to the contrary, sure looked like a woman who needed a diaper. She was laying on the ground, legs splayed apart, rash covered ass laying on a wet diaper, waiting to be wiped clean by another person.

"Sure, baby," Michael said as he began to wipe Kylee's tender skin with the baby wipes.

As Michael wiped the urine off of Kylee's waist, Kylee couldn't help but be surprised from his delicate, caring touch. As Michael wiped, Kylee squirmed as it became clear she was still very sore from her diaper rash. However, Michael did a good job at both being thorough and gentle with Kylee's delicate skin.

Then Michael made his way to Kylee's slit and she started to squirm for another reason. The feeling of Michael's fingers through the wet wipe felt so good to Kylee. It brought back the recent memories of Julie's 'special' changes back at the gym. She started to buck her hips into Michael's hand.

"Oh, baby likes that, huh?" Michael said as he started to pay more attention to Kyle's vagina.

"Don't… call… me… baby!" Kylee moaned out as Michael started to rub her clit more intentionally.

"What should I call you then? Your the one laying here on the ground getting your pissy little pampers changed, aren't you?" Michael asked with a seductively dominant tone.

"Ye… yes…" Kylee moaned out.

"Then what does that make you?" Michael asked as he started to thrust his middle and index finger into Kylee's pussy, while continuing to rub her clit with his thumb.

"A… a… a…" Kylee moaned in rhythm with Michael's fingers.

"A what?" Michael demanded, his cock throbbing at his wife's humiliation and his own sense of power.

"A… a… a… BABY!" Kylee screamed as her body convulsed in pleasure with an epic orgasm.

"That's right," Michael said as he removed his fingers from Kylee and wiped them on a new baby wipe. "But, since you were a good girl and admitted it, I guess we can let you try panties again today," he continued cheekily.

"Thank you, Daddy," Kylee said as Michael finished cleaning her up, helped her stand up, and balled up her diaper.

"Of course sweetheart, why don't you go take a shower though? I got most of it off, but let's not take a risk with that rash," Michael suggested.

Kylee complied.

As Kylee showered, Michael took care of his own arousal. He laid on his bed, put his hand down his pants, and stroked himself, imagining Kylee, sitting in a crib at the end of the bed, looking at him longingly in a wet diaper and childish onesie as he fucked Emily doggy style.

It didn't take long before Michael made a sticky mess in his hand. He used another of Kylee's wipes to clean himself up.

The rest of the day went fairly normally for Kylee and Michael. Kylee put back on a pair of panties, but not before slathering her ass in rash cream. She and Michael went about their normal daily tasks.

The only changes were minimal. Michael would occasionally throw glances at her crotch suspiciously, as if he was making sure she didn't have any more accidents. Kylee also found it a little uncomfortable to sit down due to her diaper rash.

However, with normalcy overtaking her day once again, Kylee almost forgot about the events of the morning when it was time to get ready for bed.

[confusedguytoo]

I hope the Buffy sequel gives us something for all the established characters, even if they don't or rarely appear. However I will start with things I'd like to see for the new Slayer. Forgive me if these seem basic. We have no idea of the character, so that part is basically world building

There are still plenty of Slayers. She's not the first called in years or anything like that

There are no Slayer schools. The point is to help Slayers survive but to also have a normal life. Uprooting them to train elsewhere wouldn't do that.

There are however Slayer camps they can visit for training during times off from school

Teen Slayers are paid a certain amount, more if they need it, but nothing in a way that encourages them to prioritize slaying compared to school

Young Slayers work alone normally, unless there just happens to be another in their area. However, "call for backup" in deeply ingrained in Watchers and Slayers. Oh yeah, they still call the group the Watcher's Council

teenage Slayers call going to work full time for the Watcher's Council as an adult "going pro"

being a "Chosen One" still invites targets and demon attacks towards teenage Slayers are more common than toward non pro adult Slayers

If you don't want to patrol you don't have to... but as mentioned above you are a target and it turns out Slayers get restless if they don't do any fighting at all for to long

Both governments of the world and forces of evil try to recruit/co-opt Slayers

*********

Now onto the Scoobies.

I want them to have a mostly happy lives since Joss isn't around.

This is a successful group

Everyone of the core group is still alive

Buffy is not married at the moment of the show, but she might have been in the past.

Buffy has at least one niece or nephew.

Xander has been divorced at least twice. It's a commitment issue. He's committed to Willow, he's committed to Buffy, he's committed to Slayers in general. This doesn't leave a lot of room to be committed to a wife.

Willow is currently married... to Tara

Tara was resurrected by bad guys in an attempt to manipulate Willow

This event is still talked about among members of Watcher's Council as "the stupidest idea evil has ever had"

Faith did the whole Faith on a motorcycle spinoff idea for a year or two

This turned out to be totally unnecessary as Angel had pulled strings to get her pardoned as one of the first things he did while in charge of Wolfram & Hart so she was not wanted by the law

Buffy and Faith did hook up briefly. When new people hear about this and also their history, everyone assumes it was during their teenage years. This seriously irritates Buffy

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

i remember when "i don't see color" was a stand-in "i will treat you as any other human being" until hysterical children decided that it means "i never heard of racism. ever. if you tell me about it, my brain will melt outta my nostrils."

Pretty much exactly this.

And this ask gives me a great reason to discuss it. I recently had to do, "racial awareness" training for my job. And listening to the instructor actually pissed me off.

Because it's the weasel words they use. They've swapped Equality and Equity as meanings. Because they are now trying to say Equality means everyone gets the same thing, which is never how I've seen it used. I've only ever seen Equity used that way to mean everyone ends up at the same place. In other words, "Forced Equal".

I've always known Equality to mean everyone has a fair shot. Not, "everyone gets the same thing". Where as Equity I've always known to mean forced to be equal. Equity in this meaning, often means taking away from others to force the equal, or to give more to others. Which is funny because they didn't really change the definition they just lied about the pretense. Because the instructor explicitly stated it's about, "being fair" and, "Not everyone starts in the same place and therefore have different needs". Which SOUNDS good on paper. Up until you realize that if you have a limited amount of food, and you give an obese people more than everyone else because they are, "still hungry" you'll likely not have enough for everyone.

And in doing this you're also saying other people DESERVE more choices or alternative choices. So we're going to give A-J vegetables because they are skinny and don't need much food, but this big guy, he's getting chicken because he "needs" it. This is how the racial training class went. In a nut shell. And when you use the ACLU as a source when they can't even be honest about left wing violence, I'm not going to take you seriously. Most people very much don't actually believe that racism is fake. They just believe the idea that the "Supply" side isn't as pervasive as these types think. Because racism and activism are too sides of a coin. If there aren't enough racists, the activists have nothing to fight.

It also pisses me off the idea that this instructor tried to tell us that white people can't suffer racism in the same way blacks can because blacks suffer "systemic" oppression because some people I'm the system are racist. Had I not been under the weather, and under orders from my boss to, "not go there", I'd have come forward with, "so you're telling me no one in the system can be racist towards whites at all" just to watch her squirm. Because the idea that a system is racist if SOME of the people in it are racist, also makes the metric the case if you agree people can be racist against white people, that they, under your own sentiment, can suffer from systemic racism. IE: Oppression.

Working circles around these people is easy if you can think critically at all. But she also stood in front of the class and said that Trump was trying to repeal civil rights law.......... And he's not. DEI is something he's trying to dismantle because it's a practice of discrimination. And she thinks it's definition is the much softer one. Hell, she thinks the BLM org are still good people rather than scam artists who've done nothing at all for black communities. While making themselves rich in the process.

It's also funny because she says stats show these classes work. Which is funny....... Because I've seen people express that studies show the opposite. That these classes actually make things worse and have opposite is the intended affect.

[kikyoupdates]

Changing Plotlines ⭑˚💞⭑ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

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“Honestly, I thought you would’ve given up by now,” Sergei sighed.

“What? Of course not,” you frowned. “I’ll have you know I’m very serious about this. Look, I’ve even been practicing!”

You proceeded to swing your wooden sword with visible enthusiasm, making cutting motions left, right, and center.

Needless to say, he wasn’t impressed.

Today marked the second day of your lessons with the kind-hearted knight who ended up meeting a gruesome fate. Naturally, you had no intention of getting ahead of yourself. It wasn’t as if you expected to become some sort of prodigy overnight. But every effort counted, and the more you practiced, the better equipped you were to defend yourself if something went awry. After stupidly letting your guard down and helping out Flora, you needed to keep up with your training, now more than ever.

“So?” you huffed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “What do you think?”

Sergei’s brows were creased. He looked like he was searching for the right words to say.

“I think that you have absolutely no talent with a sword.”

Okay, well he clearly hadn’t found the right words, because ouch.

“You’re so mean,” you whined. “This is only our second lesson! Don’t you think it’s too early to jump to conclusions? Of course I’m not going to be great right off the bat. I’m only a beginner. Were you immensely talented from the get-go?”

“Yes,” Sergei said calmly. “My talent is the whole reason I decided to become a knight.”

“Ugh. Okay, that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that someone can suck at something at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they can’t improve one day.”

“I agree with that,” Sergei acknowledged. “I’m not saying that you can’t learn, but from what I’ve seen, it’s already quite clear that this isn’t the sort of activity that will come naturally to you. Everyone has different types of skills. Why not take up a hobby that you might be better suited towards? It could save you a lot of frustration, and sword-fighting really isn’t the sort of thing a lady like you will ever have any use for...”

But I can’t learn something else. It’s not like I’m doing this for fun. I need to make sure I’ll have some way of protecting myself.

Obviously, you couldn’t tell him that for you, learning to use a sword was absolutely essential. So, you did what you did best. You lied.

“As I’ve told you before, I am a very prudent woman,” you said.

Sergei snorted. Okay, rude.

“Lately, I keep having nightmares of criminals attacking me in the middle of the night, and I can’t do anything but quiver helplessly. I refuse to be helpless,” you frowned. “I never want to end up in the sort of situation where I just cower in fear and hope for the best. I want to take charge of my life and fight until the very end.”

“This seems to be an ongoing concern of yours,” he remarked, looking a touch concerned. “Being cautious is all well and good, but there is such a thing as worrying too much. If you’re really so afraid, why don’t you just make sure to take a personal guard when you go out in public?”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“So, then...”

“But if they fail to protect me, then I’m right back to square one.”

Sergei shook his head in disbelief. “Alright, alright. If training with a sword will really help to put your worries to rest, then I suppose it’s the least I can do for you. But you really should know that the odds of you getting hurt, especially if you aren’t on your own, are remarkably slim. Infinitesimal, even.”

Ha. You’d be surprised.

“Yes, I know,” you said, mustering a smile. “But this really does make me feel better about the whole thing. I feel powerful, even though I realize I’m far from it yet. And now I have the added challenge of becoming so good that you’ll be forced to eat your words. Hehe.”

“At the very least, your enthusiasm is certainly admirable,” Sergei chuckled.

Right. That was all you had, really. Enthusiasm. And fear. Fear for your life. With such emotions driving you forward, you were certain that you could somehow compensate for your lack of athletic abilities.

As proof of your readiness to train your butt off, you swung your sword several times in quick succession, building up a noticeable burn in your arms. Sergei wasn’t saying anything, just watching you in silence. It didn’t matter if you sucked. Hell, you knew you sucked, but that still wasn’t going to change the fact that you were going to do this, no matter what.

“Lady [Name], please stop,” he eventually said.

You looked back at him in confusion. “Yes? Am I doing something wrong?”

“You’re doing many things wrong, but that’s not what I was getting at. How would you like to try using a real sword today, just to get a feel for it?”

You could hardly contain the grin that burst across your lips. “Really?!”

“It would be good to try,” he nodded. “If the point is to protect yourself, a wooden sword won’t do much to achieve that. It was just to get you a bit familiar with the length and girth of the weapon you’ll be holding. Keep in mind that the real thing will be quite a good deal heavier, though. It will be difficult to adjust to at first.”

“That’s totally fine!” you babbled, eager to finally try out the real thing. You’d never held a sword before. It was difficult to even find swords back in your previous world. All of this was to learn how to protect yourself, but it was still so exciting!

Sergei bit back a smile. “It’s not that amazing. But I have to admit that it’s quite amusing to watch you react so expressively.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re amused. C’mon, gimme!”

“You certainly don’t speak like a noblewoman, though... anyways, here you are. Be careful. Don’t move too suddenly with it.”

He gently placed the hilt of the sword in your hands, with the blade pointed downwards. You couldn’t feel the full weight of it yet, not while Sergei was still gripping it as well.

But then he let go. And the sword fell to the ground.

“Ouchie!” you squealed, frantically shaking your wrist. “My hand nearly broke!”

Sergei clamped a palm over his mouth. “Pfft... n-no, you’re just exaggerating. I did warn you, my lady. Perhaps you were just surprised. Care to try again?”

You grimaced, cheeks glowing bright red. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating just a bit, but that thing was heavy as all hell! In the interest of staying as safe as possible, you knew wielding a sword was practically crucial, but you were slowly realizing that it was an even bigger obstacle than you’d once presumed.

“I can do it,” you huffed, crouching down to pick the sword back up. “It’s okay. I have muscles. Weak, underused ones... but they’re still muscles!”

Sergei was trying not to laugh at you—and failing horribly, at that.

But by some miracle, you managed to pick the sword up. Granted, you had to hold onto it with both hands, and the strain it was placing on your wrists was enough to make your arms shake, but you were actually holding a sword. God, you felt like such a badass!

“I-I’m amazing,” you said, grimacing in between breaths. “Showstopping, incredible, phenomenal. S-Super epic... ugh, I just can’t anymore!”

You dropped the sword once again, sighing in relief. Okay, so it was a work in progress. Strengthening your wrists would likely be crucial. Maybe you could practice by repeatedly opening jars.

“Good effort,” Sergei mused, flashing you a thumbs-up. “It was—pfft! —very entertaining."

“Well, I’m glad one of us enjoyed it,” you eye-rolled.

“Weren’t you going on earlier about how you’d make me eat my words? Surely the weight of the sword isn’t enough to make you quit?”

“I have no intention of quitting,” you reassured. “That being said... is it all possible to make my own sword? One that’s a bit lighter? I’m not as tall or strong as you. I can have one personally customized to better suit me, right?”

Sergei nodded. “Yes, you can have one made by a blacksmith. If you provide him with the rough dimensions of the sword, and what sort of materials you’d like to have used, I’m sure he can craft one that’s more comfortable for you to use. It still won’t be too light, not if you want it to be sturdy enough to deal damage, but you can figure out the details and strike a good balance between what you’d like to achieve.”

“Is there a particular blacksmith you recommend?”

“As a matter of fact, there is. Remind me to write down his name and some other details for you later.”

“Alright. In that case...” You picked up the wooden sword instead of the real one, smiling sheepishly. “Um. Until I have my personal sword made, I’d like to stick with this one, if that’s okay...”

Sergei was clearly holding back the urge to laugh again. “Whatever you say, Lady [Name].”

“Back to training I go,” you hummed. “Watch this! Consecutive wooden sword slashes, but at a dizzying speed. Hyah!”

“Again with the battle cries...”

Even if you were still a noob in the purest sense of the word, over time, your body was bound to adapt. You were intent on getting by through muscle memory alone. Besides, as far as you knew, only two of the yanderes were proficient sword-fighters themselves—namely, Triston and Friedrich. So long as you were armed, and they weren’t, you would probably stand a chance.

Point being, it was best not to skimp on your training. Even if you probably looked like a fool flailing around all over the place.

Still, it was certainly tiring swinging a heavy wooden sword continuously. With every motion, you could feel your arms progressively turning to jelly. Coupled with the fact that it was so hot out, you were really starting to break a sweat.

“Time out,” you groaned, throwing your sword down. You tried to fan yourself off with your hand, but it wasn’t doing much good. This goddamn tunic was making you burn up. It needed to go.

So, you proceeded to get rid of it, stripping your outermost layer and exposing the thin camisole you had underneath. The relief was almost immediate. Granted, it was still hot as hell, but your skin could finally breathe now.

“L-Lady [Name]!” came the horrified splutter. You turned to find Sergei gaping at you in disbelief, several shades redder than he’d been a few seconds ago.

“Yes?” you frowned.

“You can’t just get undressed like that all of a sudden! Please remember that you are in public!”

He looked away in a hurry, and you had to admit, it was kind of cute. In the game, Sergei made every effort to act the part of a knight. He was sometimes guilty of being too serious, although he eventually came to let his guard down around Flora, after falling for her gentleness. From what you recalled, he’d never been much of a joker, yet in the few interactions he’d had with you, you’d already gotten to see him laugh it up plenty of times at your expense. And now he was even blushing. It was refreshing to see such different sides to a character you liked.

But honestly, you didn’t really get what the big deal was. The camisole was pretty thin, sure, but it wasn’t all that revealing. A tiny bit of cleavage and bare shoulders, but that was about it. Back in your world, people showed plenty of skin, so you definitely weren’t used to such an innocent reaction. Your case especially was rather unique. Countless doctors and nurses had seen you butt naked before, so something like this hardly fazed you.

Watching Sergei get increasingly flustered was rather amusing, though.

“You can drop the title, you know,” you chuckled, still fanning yourself off. “Just [Name] is fine.”

“No, I really mustn’t,” he insisted. His face was buried in his palms, and it almost seemed like he was itching to move them out of the way and steal another peek, but his willpower remained undaunted. “This is already quite improper... and you allow me to speak to you so casually in the first place. Now, please, will you get dressed?”

“Aw. But it’s way too hot out. I’d rather keep practicing like this.”

“Lady [Name], what you have on leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Please, for my sake, I’ll ask that you cover up again.”

“Prude,” you muttered under your breath. Alright, alright. You could sort of understand that this was set in a different time period, with different standards and all that, but you were really struggling to feel modest given your previous lived experiences. Guess that was yet another thing you’d have to get used to here.

With a great deal of reluctance, you put your tunic back on, cursing the fact that they didn’t even have air conditioning in this world.

“You can look now,” you announced. “Rest assured that my breasts are back in their rightful place.”

Sergei gritted his teeth, still red as a tomato. “In the name of all that is holy, I am literally begging you to stop.”

“Hehe.”

“Don't hehe me!”

It was safe to say that Sergei was too embarrassed to look you in the eye for the rest of your training session.

Cedric Lightsteel, huh?

You stared down at the piece of paper in your hand. It was the name of the blacksmith Sergei had personally recommended to you. Sergei spoke very highly of him, so you didn’t doubt that he’d be able to craft you the perfect sword. Once you’d obtained a weapon tailored to suit your needs, you were confident that your skills would improve astronomically.

Anyways, things were looking good. As expected, it felt good to plan everything out in the event that you got caught up in something dangerous. Based on the natural progression of the plot, you still had plenty of time until the yanderes began exhibiting their dangerous tendencies—not that you planned on ever seeing any of them again.

There had been a little hiccup with Flora, sure, but you’d ignored her letter. By now, you were confident that she would’ve gotten the message. Even if you did feel really shitty about it.

“Man, I’m pooped,” you yawned, stretching your arms out. Living in a healthy body really was incredible. You��d worked your butt off today, and you were definitely tired, but it still didn’t even come close to the fatigue you experienced every single day back in your old life. Even with minimal activity, you’d been in a perpetual state of exhaustion back then. You slept just about always, lied around doing very little when you were awake, and your body struggled to do even that much.

It almost made you want to cry. The fact that you actually got to live like this now. That was why you needed to hold onto it with all your strength.

You decided to unwind by taking a nice, hot bath. Modern day luxuries were certainly missing in this world, but that just meant that you had more time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. You could even feel some of your vigor returning to you as you soaked in the delightful bubbly water. You’d trained for hours, but with this body, it felt like you’d be good to do the whole thing all over again after just a little bit of rest.

Sighing happily, you eventually decided that you were squeaky clean and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body.

Then, you walked back into your bedroom.

Only to find a strange man sitting on the bed.

“Ah,” he smiled upon locking eyes with you. “Did you have a nice bath? I was waiting for you to finish. Come, let’s have a chat."

Unsurprisingly, you screamed.

More chapters are available on Quotev!

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💞 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[midnightshindig]

ex! Rex Splode X Male! Reader

Someone just fucking shoot me already WHY ISNT THERE MORE REX STUFF ON HERe-etburhifeuo anyways crossposted to AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/62872648)

Anyways! Second chance, forgiving your ex, ominous vague bullshit and nothing gets explained well but who cares this is fanfiction <3 /pos

Fic under the cut <3

It was simple, it was almost sweet in a way. Super hero summer camp, a cleanup gig in Chicago where young, small-time superheroes like yourself worked with the new Guardians of the Globe to help restore the city. Your team was among the first to volunteer, roping you in for the sake of not leaving you alone at your home base and primary living arrangement. You weren't sure how useful you were going to be, invisibility wasn't super helpful for stuff like this. All you had over the average person was the fair amount of muscle you put on in training, but even then you were more of a stealth killer than a hand-to-hand combatant. Both in fighting and in life.

Nothing was more apparent than the fact you didn't fit in with this impromptu summer camp. Twenty superheroes- including you and your four teammates- from various cities and slums across the Americas, all crammed into a makeshift shelter set up by the rogue Atom Eve. Somewhere nearby but secret, the entirety of the Guardians of the Globe, with their locations hidden for "safety purposes". You and the other sixteen strangers mingled well. Your teammates consisted of super strength, teleportation, electrokinesis, and novice-level super speed. It was difficult to imagine any team more well-suited for construction. You and the two or three other superheroes with moderately useless abilities found yourselves playing second fiddle to your teammates, fetching hammers and organizing volunteers and what have you.

It wasn't all bad; we had mealtime together and slept in communal cots. The cozy cabin-like interior of the shelter gave you the impression you were one friendship bracelet away from needing a camp counselor for supervision. It was nice, almost childlike in its facade. Being a superhero since fourteen robbed you of certain things, like the quintessential bonding experience that is summer camp. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to feel like a normal nineteen-year-old, but you projected your summer camp fantasies onto this project *hard*.

It had only been the second day of what was supposed to be a two-week project when you met him. A man in a robot suit, or perhaps just a robot (it wasn't clear), had directed you to demolition. There was a lot of debris and building remnants that needed to be taken out before the new ones could even begin to be put in. So you found yourself talking with some local demolition experts, figuring out where they could best use your hands to get the job done. "I was thinking I could just do whatever your lackeys usually do. I mean- unless you want me swinging the wrecking ball--" you smiled jokingly, pretending to maneuver the sticks on the wrecking ball machine.

An annoying, almost gruff cough came from behind "Uhm- we don't need a wrecking ball. We have *me*." behind you was your supervising superhero. You raised an eyebrow at him, studying him for a minute and recognizing him as

"Rex?" You broke into a small smile, tilting your head and raising that brow higher in disbelief "Rex Splode- I don't believe it." You'd known him at one point or another, an all-too-familiar ache rising in your chest.

He cocked his head back, almost mimicking- like a dog. You'd changed significantly since your early teens, you were taller, stronger, and harder in the eyes. Since the last time you'd seen him, you'd seen innocents die, you'd killed, you'd finally been taken on your first date, and you'd had your heart broken for only the second time. It'd been three years, and he was a Guardian. And you were the invisible man on cleanup duty. Well, you were on cleanup duty together. When he registered who you were, his eyes widened and jaw went slack. You'd changed your costume to the point he probably wouldn't have noticed your identity if you hadn't said anything.

But he did notice you, and once his head stopped spinning, he broke into a wide eyed, almost nervous, grin. The demolition company might as well have been chopped liver, he stepped past them and paused. His arms were open for a hug, his eyes bright, but he caught himself, awkwardly shoving himself into an open palm. You went to shake it. He dapped you up. He. he dapped you up. and then he snapped. To finish dapping you up- oh my god-

"You haven't changed a bit, man. A guardian? That's exciting, whose dick did you have to suck to make that happen?" You waved the demolition men away, a bit impatiently. Aside from your teammates, he was the first familiar face you'd seen all week. Even if the knot in your stomach tightened, this wasn't anything you'd give up for the butterflies.

He rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. "Uh, you don't mess with perfect! You should take my advice, you're like totally unrecognizable! No wonder Eve didn't point you out, you're like totally undercover and shit!" He seemed almost offended? Why? "You uh-" he kicked a rock, waving his wrist circularly to articulate his point "You didn't say anything, to Eve, that is. She would've loved to say hi. She's gonna be sad she missed you." He folded his arms, looking up and askew "You know her, can't keep her feet on the ground. She's off in the woods again studying for an architecture test? Man I dunno, she's busy but we keep in touch." He looked back at you, upwards through his eyelashes and a stiff upper lip. Almost like he was pouting. The folded arms didn't help to make him *not* look like a wounded kid.

You rubbed your neck uncomfortably, shifting your weight onto either foot as you fumbled for an excuse. "Uhh- yeah- I meant to- but I got totally caught up in this thing and I mean- buildings aren't going to demolish and clean up themselves!" smiling, you motioned to the slew of half-wrecked apartment buildings and businesses, skyscrapers toppled and left to rot for months until help was available. It'd been roughly a year since Chicago, and this was the first time things had been calm enough for enough superheroes to be available.

Rex didn't care for the excuse, sighing and looking away. He seemed more.... calm, less of a dickhead than when you were younger. "Look, y/n, I know we didn't like- leave in the best circumstances. I've been through a lot since then- like-" he chopped the air with both hands, emphasizing his point "-a. LOT. I got shot in the head by King. Lizard." he scoffed, at King Lizard or himself, you weren't sure "If you can believe in. Bastard got me point blank, totally fucked up my hand" He held up a robotic hand, covered in his usual leather gloves. "And I realized, the way I've treated the people in my life-" he paused pensively, mulling something over quickly before continuing "Especially my past partners...." he swallowed, hard, looking for your reaction.

You winced at the word, folding your arms. "Rex this really isn't-"

"No- no." He calmly but firmly interrupted you, holding up a flat palm. "I need to say this. I was an asshole to you, and to Eve, and to Kate-- I care about people and I need to be better to the people I care about. Or else I hurt them. I'm trying to be less of an asshole, Y/n. You know, I made good with Eve, and Kate's gone but I want to believe I can be better." He sighed a heavy, burdened sigh, and kicked a piece of rubble away. "I'm not gonna make you deal with my emotional baggage while we work on this project together, but I want to tell you that I'm sorry I was such a bad person to you and that you never got to be a part of Teen Team, or stay with Eve, or any of the things I robbed you of by leaving you in that fight." He shrugged, a lighthearted gesture done in vain compared to the heavy conversation. "You've done really well for yourself, you clean up nice, I mean. I don't really..." Rex sighed, realizing the weight of his words "I guess I don't really know how you're doing."

It was a lot to take in, but ever quick to the punch, you simply nodded back "Uh, yeah. I've been good. Taking it easy in San Diego as one of the rarer Californian superhero teams or whatever, eating lots of kale." you deadpanned, earning a good laugh from Rex.

"Ha-! I bet it sucks out there, fucking weather's all jacked, and you said kale? Ew- my condolences. Get me a chili dog any day." He cracked a grin, easing the tension.

"Uh- excuse me." A gruff older man you recognized as the head of the demolition department interrupted, stepping over. "I'm real sorry to stop your talking, but we wanna get this row of buildings done before lunch." He was surprisingly gentle, and you and Rex nodded to get to work.

And so the day went, awkward tension eased slightly by wisecracks and the hard labor of destruction.

"so-" Rex threw exploding coins into the base of the dilapidated building, right where the men had marked for them to go, "how'd you get stuck on cleanup duty?"

You went over to the newly-exploded pile of rubble and began loading it into bags "I dunno, I guess they didn't have anywhere else to put me?" You slung the bags into a wheelbarrow and began hauling it to the much larger pile of rubble "This is where the reject superheroes with shitty powers go, I guess. Or maybe Robot thought I needed some quality time with my long-lost evil ex." Your smile was self-deprecating at best and mocking at worst, and Rex clocked it immediately.

Unable to dig up any more emotional vulnerability, Rex merely responded "Well Robot doesn't give a shit about me or my personal life, he's too busy trying to shack up with Monster Girl, plus--" He walked over and slung two bags over his shoulder, outshining you "I'm a badass, you're a badass, we're not the rejects of anything. You've got powers like Green Ghost, she was a whole-ass Guardian. That's gotta count for something."

"Uh, yeah, I'm a worse copy of her, and she's dead." You frowned, tossing a bag into a wheelbarrow once more, followed by Rex tossing his in.

"Woah woah woah, pump the hate brakes." He looked down at you, folded arms in disapproval. "You are NOT a second-rate hero, and you're a total badass who survived being dumped in the middle of a fight, I mean come on, that's brutal! And you still plowed through those aliens like it was NOTHING, at sixteen! That's amazing. You were amazing when we were kids, you're amazing now. I bet if you'd auditioned, you'd be a guardian right. now."

His words resonated, and the summer camp felt like daunting. You placed an open palm against his upper arm, smiling hesitantly "Thanks Rex, I... needed to hear that."

Your smile was met with an equally soft, cautious one from Rex. "Ahhhh-" he trailed off, snapping back to reality "Doon't mention it! But seriously, you're tough as hell." He took the bag of rubble you were carrying and foisted it onto his back "I got you."

You watched him struggle all for the sake of kindness, or maybe to impress you, you weren't sure, but the way he flopped over to the rubble pile left the ache in your heart worse than ever. A bitter, tight grip on your upper bicep from crossed arms put you in a closed posture. It wasn't fair to have to be this close with him again, after so long. It was just you and him in this section, doing this area of demolition. In a way, it was like summer camp, drama and exes close by, doing menial tasks to distract from the interpersonal turmoil and drama. Part of you felt like asking for a reassignment, but part of you missed Rex and Eve, especially Rex, and couldn't pass on the opportunity to know him again. If you'd changed as much as you had, maybe he could have too. Maybe he wasn't the guy who dumped and left you mid-alien invasion for your best friend. maybe you could be friends again. Maybe more? No- no. The thought brought a heat to your face but you quickly shut it down. Still, maybe you could be friends.

Maybe you'd like that.

It was simple, almost sweet in a way. A complicated reunion reduced to happenstance, an apology, and a reconnection. No third parties or misunderstandings, just reconnection and forgiveness. Maybe that was all you needed. To be friends, to make that summer camp connection that would last the next two weeks before you inevitably ghosted him. It troubled you. And the next two weeks threatened to trouble you all the more.

[comicbookhyperfixationtime]

Oh my God you're right he totally is Born Sexy Yesterday! They literally start sexualizing him before he's even fully conscious ("Does he need CPR? I know CPR!"). Also, the Obligatory Cheesecake Scene where he's walking around shirtless is 100% him being an Innocent Fanservice Girl. 😭

I do get what you mean about "fem-coded" though, I agree that that's probably not correct term for this. I usually think of someone being "coded" as an intentional choice on the writers part, and I'm fairly confident that almost no Thor writer intended to play on this dichotomy. I also usually think of "coded" as when some fantastical element of a character is used as a commentary for a real-world identity. Like, mutants are "LGBTQ-coded" or "POC-coded" because their stories explore themes of oppression and ostracization without actually being about a real world minority. Data is "autism-coded" because he's not actually autistic, he's a robot, but his themes and arcs touch on topics relating to neurodivergency, such as struggling with affective empathy and feelings of isolation. As such, I don't think "fem-coded" is the right way to describe authors (mostly unintentionally) assigning Thor stereotypically feminine traits and tropes. However, I don't have a better word for it, so, fem-coded it is I guess.

Also, while I have seen other male heroes experience some of these tropes (Captain America is also often in sexy-distress, Nightwing is often presented with the female gaze, etc) I've never seen so many converge quite like they do on Thor. If I had to guess what it is about him that attracts all this "fem-coding" its probably because he's so masc and not despite of it. @kimmsauce also mentioned this, and I agree, that sexual assault against Thor is brushed off because he's just so much physically stronger than any of his assaulters. I think a similar train of thought applies to other aspects of his "fem-coding." Thor performs masculinity so well that writers feel like they can assign him femme traits, like his love of cooking, without damaging that perception of him as "manly."

The unusual crossing of gender barriers with Thor was sort of baked into the character from the beginning. Even during the Lee and Ditko run the seeds were being planted. Visually, Thor was presented with long blonde hair in an era when that was utterly unthinkable on a man, people commented on his "girly" appearance from day one. He was sexualized from the moment he started interacting with female characters, not only in the typical, passive swoony way with Jane Foster, but also with Janet van Dyne's more aggressive (and dare I say, almost masculine) approach (somebody the Avengers an HR department stat). He was always a soft-hearted, a hopeless romantic, and his civilian identity was a doctor, a healer (a traditionally feminine archetype, albeit a traditionally masculine career).

Basically TLDR that man was made to be bbygirl-ed.

Sorry. I didn't mean anything bad with fem coded Thor ask.

No no don't worry, I know what you were trying to say because I think thor (and thor reception as a character) is very different to how male characters are usually portrayed in superhero type stuff but the way fandoms use fem coded really has me climbing the walls.

I'll answer your ask properly because I absolutely DO wanna talk about but I gotta go get ready for work!

[hazel2468]

Just remember that an estimated 26% of Americans have a disability, and a significant portion of those people have an invisible disability, or a disability that isn't instantly recognizable.

So if you're the kind of person who makes loud, rude comments about "lazy people" sitting on trains? Right in front of someone sitting on a train?

You have a slightly greater than a 1 in 4 chance of REALLY acting like a fool, in addition to just being a rude, abelist jerk already.

[spotaus]

New Age au (A Day at Dream's)

Hey y'all! This is another pre-story Drabble, this time from Dream's perspective! Exiled prince doing his best to interact with the populous and do his daily tasks! This was mainly just an attempt from me to get back into writing for this au, and ofc, fleshing out Dream! Hope y'all enjoy!

(Who do I normally tag? @ancha-aus @papiliovolens @mutzelputz I believe? Welcome back y'all!)

The morning was warm, something that Dream had to be grateful for. Ever since the incident, it seemed like he was faced with far more cloudy days than sunny ones, even in the midst of summer. The winters froze so harshly that trees would splinter at the branch, limbs cracking like cannon shots in the nights. The spring was full of awful thunder storms that spewed lightning and wrought floods, and the fall was constantly welcoming wind storms that threw around the rotten remains of plants all about. Even Blue had to admit that the weather was much worse here than his home kingdom, after the first year they’d spent at the very border of Orchard. 

Summers were hit and miss, either clinging to the traces of those awful storms, making everything sticky and humid, or beginning the dry season. This morning, as far as Dream could tell, might’ve finally been the start of a dry season. The garden didn’t seem to be swamped, it didn’t seem to be wilted either. The plants always seemed to know when rain was coming, because their leaves would downturn. After so many years, Dream made it a habit to glance out one of the back windows to make sure he knew just what to expect from the day.

Buttoning his over-cloak, he found himself lingering at the window for a second. He knew he’d have to talk with a returning scouting party later in the afternoon, their most survived thus far, but beyond that there wasn’t much else. Go about the camp, see if he could boost morale, maybe get in a training session with Blue…

Speaking of Blue, his loyal knight was seemingly nowhere to be found. 

Dream took a moment, crossing the quaint living room of their cabin to squint at the sky. Hmm, already past midday. He had been up rather late last night, night terrors plaguing him as they often did nowadays. He must’ve slept in, Blue had always been an early riser. Up just before the sun, back to bed late in the evening. Dream was pretty sure the only days he hadn’t seen Blue out on a morning jog were those that he asked the other to stick around. For safety, for planning, for breakfast… If he knew Blue well enough, which he liked to think he did, Blue was probably out right about now helping the supply carts unload to the outer tents. They always came in on the 2nd of every month, and the calendar marked it as such. Bless Blue for keeping such good track of affairs. 

The prince was practiced as he pulled on his remaining accessories. His archery gloves, which carried up to his elbows, and the thick leather boots gifted to him by a cobbler in the closest village. The boots were durable and comfortable, and while they weren’t the morst appealing at first, Blue had suggested that they find someone to embroider them with Dream’s symbol, the sun. They’d done so, asking one of the refugees they’d taken in if she could, and now they felt much more homey. Of course, it’d been several years now and they were looking worse for wear, but he’d grown a bit sentimental. 

These things were his, and he could keep them as long as he liked. No one here cared if they were mud-stained and threadbare in a few places, they were always looking at his face, after all. 

The moment they were buckled securely, Dream took the chance to stroll towards the door and push outside. 

Just as his plants suggested, the air was warm and dry, something which was deeply familiar to him, and admittedly placed him into a much warmer mood. Especially because, with the good weather, folks had gone about and placed their tapestries outside again. Banners and hanging pieces, all adorned with the shapes of the sun, in bright yellows, striking orange, and even some with that familiar pink accent. Usually, when it rained or snowed, they’d place the expensive and valuable symbols inside for safety, but with the warm air it felt only right that he could once again see his colors flying. 

It reminded him why he was doing all this. He had to regain power, to usurp his brother. Free him from whoever was whispering lies into his ears. Be crowned and see his sun in place of the moons which had infected every inch of the capital and many cities beyond. Though, for now, this was good enough. His own little paradise. 

The walk int the campsite proper was a little ways out from the cabin, a slightly thinner trail through a thin set of trees. Enough that he could see the camp, but the camp wasn’t directly connected to his little house, he needed his privacy every once in a while. 

From even the short walk away he could hear that the camp must’ve been bustling. Warm weather tended to make all of his people more active, it was familiar and welcoming, and rife with time to finish tasks like chores, or playing games, or, even better yet, training. Here there was no dedicated guard like back home, but the militia was very involved in wanting to learn combat, and Blue was certainly a good motivator for them. The clashing of steel and grunting of labored movements was one of several clue-ins that he’d have to stop by the little patch of dirt they used as a training arena of sorts. Off to the side of camp, with a few benches, a shed to store practice weapons, and several targets for aiming practice. Nothing fancy, but certainly enough for these people to learn. 

The prince could hardly help himself as he stepped into the camp proper and slipped that way. 

Each step passed colorful tents, heavy canvas died different colors by whoever most often occupied them. Some tenets were larger, housing the folks who stayed here as their home, run out of whatever village or city drove them off. Others were smaller, filled with supplies or individual tents for guests, dedicated to their returns. 

Dream passed Inl’s tent and smiled to himself in the silence. The inside fo the tent was piled high with half-finished paintings and splattered all over with different pigments. Paint was an expensive commodity, but Ink always seemed to know just how to make the brightest pigments out of the most random objects, plants and rocks and leaves he found on the ground, it was magical. The only thing he’d ever finished when he stayed at the camp for that brief while was the painting which Dream had practically begged him for, a royal portrait, or sorts. Dream sat atop a throne, Blue stood beside him at perfect attention, holding the sun-themed banner. It had been perfect, and it was another of Dream’s prized possessions. After that, Ink hadn’t had the focus to do any of the other paintings he started, but many of them were about tails of Dream’s usurpment, tails of tragedy told to him by the people, made in rough color splashes or with a big chunk of white at a corner where he lost his focus and moved on. Dream had gone inside once to make sure Ink hadn’t left anything behind before he left, but decided it felt lifeless and cold without the artist inside.And besides, Ink could never quite draw Nightmare right. Even though he’d drawn Dream perfectly, and they were identical twins, something always felt off about those pieces. 

The brief moment thinking about the artist fled. He was surely off killing some corrupt noble right about now for his own corrupt pay, and it was frankly none of Dream’s business so long as Ink wasn’t after his own people. 

His boots carried lightly over the soft grass, trodden down by the constant walking about camp. Light green and pretty, his heels sunk into soft soil beneath like some sort of bog, but it didn’t bother him a bit. If he had his way, the sun would stay out all day and dry up the ground a bit, make it more even and solid. Easier to walk over, less likely to slip into. 

To just his luck, only a few people spotted him in passing, waving or calling out to him, and a smile and a wave of recognition was all they needed to move on with their days. His aura must’ve been getting stronger, because he could only taste the ambient contentment from the entire camp as he wandered his way towards his destination. 

And, soon enough, it was upon him. That little patch of ground where the sounds had been coming from. Where the magic of monsters and the energy of humans were all alight with passion and focus. It was a wonder they all stayed so committed. Though, Dream had learned fairly quickly that people like these, who worked in farms, or crafts, making their money day to day, would work harder than any other person he’d ever met. Plus, it wasn’t nearly as hard for them to train as others. These very people could wrangle a steer with their bare hands, so all they needed was the fine-tuning and weapon training, none of the strenght building which usually took so long. 

That was probably why, now, they were as adept as they were with their weapons. Swords and halberds and morning stars and hammers, all of them clashed with another weapon or a practice dummy. Of course, there were only about 10 people out and about at the moment, but a few others sat on the sidelines. 

There was a brief moment where he was simply stood there. Something about combat, the thrill of the sounds and the movements and the force behind each swing, it was all mesmerising to him. He’d always been a natural with long-range weapons, and they were the only ones his mother ever approved of him using. Staying out of the direct line of fire, attacking from far away, that was what would protect his physical body, and his image. If he was struck in a fight, then people would look poorly upon him. Of course, if he’d become King he could’ve done anything. Could’ve learned the sword, or even daggers, and gotten up close and personal. Seen the flurry of emotions fly through his opponents eyes even before he tasted them. No mother to tell him no, no babysitter, nothing. Just him and the battle. 

Alas, here he is, still using his arrows, and still not using close-combat weaponry, unlike the training warriors before him. In fact, he was pretty positive he was one of the only people who actually used the arrow range, even if he didn’t need to anymore. Shots were engrained into his mind, muscle memory practically as easy as sleeping. Maybe easier, actually. 

Regardless, he found himself forcing his eyelights past the forms of the fighting parties, and instead skimmed for Blue. Dream didn’t want to interact with the merchants today, but he knew Blue’s next stop would most likely be here. He couldn’t ever pass up as great a day as this to practice.

“Prince Dream!” The call for him was loud and excited, and a hot rush of child-like wonder burned through his focus as he stood waiting. 

His eyelights shot over, catching sight of a monster he knew should be familiar to him. There very very few people who brought their little ones to the camp, for safety reasons mostly, and those who did often had very subdued children, ones who rarely spoke or played or caused trouble. This child was entirely different. Dream always knew they were nearby, because children’s emotions were far more potent. Adult emotions felt like a warm bath, while children’s joy, for example, was like someone had splashed hot tea onto his lap. Not painful, but far more striking. 

The tyke who rushed towards him now was giggling in high-pitched squeals and stared at him with two bright orange eyelights, beig and round. He was a little skeleton, maybe four, who had white bones with splotches of a greyish hue splattered across his face and hands. Today he was wearing a little white and yellow tunic which had obviously taken some falls into the grass since he put it on that morning.

“Copper, what did we say about running with the practice blade?” Another voice called out, this one deeper and far more familiar to Dream.

The little one, who Dream now spotted was carrying a dulled wooden dagger in one of his clumsy hands, bolted past Dream’s legs, only to pivot and rush in circles around him with an energy unmatched and giggles that were unrivaled in joy. HE was obviously getting enjoyment out of causing mischief for his guardian. 

Dream’s gaze traveled away from Copper with his smile in-tact, not getting a look at the adult whom he knew he knew. Eclipse, one of Copper’s two parents. He was also a skeleton, older than Dream by at least a decade, and much taller with broader shoulders. His bones were a perfect white, his face a bit long, and his eyelights a simple white. He was wearing a tunic not unlike his son, but adorned with all sorts of belts and a heavy fur wrapped around his shoulders despite the heat. It was a dark brown, his partner’s prized pelt. 

Of course, he should’ve expected to see Eclipse sometime today. He’d been eagerly awaiting his partner’s return from the mission. They’d be back tonight.

“Eclipse, how have you been?” Dream asked courteously, drawing his eyes back to Copper with a plan rapidly forming. 

Eclipse came to a halt beside him, at least an arm’s length away, and sighed a fond sigh. “I am faring well, all considered. Since Ichor went off for this mission, Copper’s been insisting that he has to learn to fight so he can protect us.” Eclipse said. “I apologize for his antics, he’s insisted that he start training right away.”

Eclipse sounded humored, but Dream could feel the tiredness seeping from his shoulders. A tension that was surely weighing on him. For a moment, it had entirely slipped his mind, but a glance confirmed his suspicion. Ichor and Eclipse had been away from camp fro a few weeks, about four months back. They’d had a soulling, and now it sat bundled in Eclipse’s arms, quiet and content, probably sleeping. Something warmed Dream’s heart, knowing that this little skelton was under the impression that he could defend his father and little sibling. 

Dream chuckled under his breath and gave a genuine grin, letting a small burst of positivity wave away from his core, pushing back a bit of Eclipse’s worry along with it. 

“No need to be sorry, I was eager to train when I was young too.” Dream confided, but before Eclipse could give a response, Dream crouched and shot his arms out, catching Copper under the arms and practically tossing him up into the air. He was obviously taken by surprise, because he shrieked with glee and stared at Dream with his big eyelights and the biggest smile. He looked a lot like his other parent, Dream realized. 

Copper giggled and Dream held him aloft. Copper hardly weighed anything, and it was a little cute how he kicked his muddy little boots in the open air as Dream held him aloft. He was entirely unbothered by his capture, and the energy obviously had yet to fade. 

“So, you want to be big and strong to protect your father and little sibling?” Dream asked to Copper, making a mock serious face, obviously exaggerated and playful. 

Copper gasped and nodded rapidly, excitedly brandishing his little wooden dagger. “Papa gave me dis! I stab any bad guys!” He insisted excitedly, swishing it around wildly in his little hand, arm limited to his side by the way Dream was holding him. 

Now this was an excited little fellow. Very cute and lively. Dream wondered if he ad this much energy, rushing ahead of his twin to get out into the courtyard and run around, climb the trees when their babysitter wasn’t looking. Nightmare sometimes wrestled with him, he missed those days. 

“Well, I thin you have the makings to be a brave warrior!” Dream encouraged, Copper wriggling happily in his grip, “Just remember, your papa and father want to keep you safe too, so listen to them, alright? That’s how you can get to be just as strong as them.” 

This was met by Copper’s nodding yet again, “So, don’t go running with that dangerous blade, alright? You might accidentally stab a not-bad guy.” Dream added, to which Copper gasped.

The little boy pulled one of his hands to cover up his mouth with wide eyes, shaking his head vigorously. “I won’t stab a not-bad guy! Only bad bad guys!” He insisted. 

Dream just shook his head and tutted, “I know, I know, but accidents happen! My friend Ink, he fights with knives sometimes, and he tripped and almost stabbed someone right in the eye once!” Dream exclaimed, and closed his right socket dramatically. 

This seemed to make Copper hold back a growing smile, and instead his expression was something almost close to a pout. His best attempt at a serious face, Dream had to imagine. Copper nodded one singular, forceful, nod this time. Some sort fo silent pledge not to run with his dagger anymore. 

Dream smiled at him, “Good, good! First step to becoming a strong warrior, listen to your parents.” he insisted, before lowering Copper down with a smooth motion. 

The kid giggled again as Dream rustled the top of his skull, and Copper made careful steps towards his dad, an obvious attempt at suddenly being responsible with the harmless wooden blade. Dream was a little proud, usually he did much worse with kids, had to resort to his magic. Maybe Blue was rubbing off on him after all.

“You really are a miracle-worker, my Prince.” Eclipse said softly, reaching one of his own hands down to gently caress the top of Copper’s skull. He nuzzled into his father’s leg and hugged it, attention distracted by watching the other fight not far off from them. 

Dream didn’t deny it, and instead just slunk a bit closer. He peered down at the babybones wrapped in Eclipse’s arm, held snug in place by a sling. It was pearly white just like its brother, but had a slightly longer face with pronounced cheekbones. Dream couldn’t help but notice the tension return to Eclipse’s emotions. 

“What’s their name, have you two decided yet? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to check in with you sooner.” Dream asked.

Eclipse seemed unbothered when Dream lifted a hand and gently brushed it against the babybone’s skull. It didn’t stir, didn’t even seem to register the contact. 

“His name is Steel.” Eclipse answered softly, “I told Ichor we wouldn’t be naming any more after metal alloys, but I can never say no to him. Steel’s eyelights are a beautiful shade of metallic silver, it was just too fitting.” Eclipse muttered. “And please, don’t trouble yourself with it. We are well aware of how busy you have been.” 

Eclipse gently bounced his arm a bit, and the babybones curled a bit closer to his chest, burying into the fur cloak draped over Eclipse’s shoulders. He seemed a bit more at ease as the little one gave a little smile in his sleep.

“Handsome name, Ichor has good taste I’m afraid.” Dream teased, eliciting a smale laugh from Eclipse.

“Do you think he’ll make it home safe, my prince?” Eclipse suddenly asked. 

Dream blinked in surprise, looking up to Eclipse. The other skeleton still had his eyes on the babybones tucked against his chest, but Dream had a feeling he was being watched nonetheless.

“You mean Ichor?” He asked, and to a hum of confirmation, he tilted his head with a grin, “I’m sure he’ll come home safe and sound. Blue’s been sure to send him on non-combat missions, and with plenty of back-up and supplies. We both know that he has a family waiting for him here, we wouldn’t send him anywhere dangerous.” 

That was a lie. Dream didn’t have any qualms about it. He just knew it was a lie. Every mission was dangerous, could turn to combat, and might end in death. Every person here, as much as Blue tried to deny, was expendable. They were part of a cause, they had to be. Of course, Dream would never put children in danger, but Ichor, just like every other person here, came willingly looking to help. He volunteered his family for this willingly. 

Of course, that isn’t what people like to hear. So, he’ll tell him things he’s heard Blue say. Blue was so kind-hearted, a softie. The moment he heard Ichor and Eclipse were having another soulling he’d re-assigned all their missions and work, and even after they’d both recovered, after Ichor was no longer carrying, he sent the guy on the easier missions. Blue didn’t want to split a family. 

Eclipse sighed, almost with relief, at Dream’s words. “Thank you, my Prince. I suppose I’m just worried over nothing. I’ve been known to do such silly things.” Eclipse relented, and smiled. It was tired, but much happier than before. Dream’s aura must’ve finally gotten to him. Broken down those worries. 

“Anytime, Eclipse. I suppose I’ll see you at their return tonight?” Dream voiced, though he knew the answer. Of course he’d be there. 

Eclipse only took a few more moments, wishing Dream a good rest of the day, before he ushered his son foreward and off elsewhere. Dream waved goodbye to them until they passed a corner, and he internally sighed in relief as he turned back to his original goal. 

Dream moved closer by a few paces and plopped himself down onto one of the benches, one side left empty by someone who had just rushed onto the field. He summoned his bow to his hands and fiddled with the string, and ill-disguised attempt at seeming busy as he just watched the proceeding spars. 

So many people stopped him daily around camp, often simply wanting to chat and catch up on their lives. Eclipse’s new babybones was, thankfully, the most exciting piece of news in the last few months, but before that was a wedding between a bunny monster and a hare monster, before that was the death of someone’s spouse and a subsequent burial, before that siblings reunited, they all had their own stories and things to keep track of. Dream found it trivial, but unfortunately, everyone expected him to now these things, remember them, keep track and ask when they met outside of business times. If he wanted these people to stay, he needed to know. 

His only grace was that Blue was very talented in chatting. Where Dream could rouse crowds and battalions, Blue thrived in a setting of just one or two, and somehow knew just about everything about everyone. They’d talk over dinner, about what they did while split up doing their duties. Dream would tell him about the state of the garden, or the new map he managed to draw up with the cartographer, while blue would tell him all the latest menial news. Crushes, holiday plans, when new people were coming in, all of it. He was always so happy, that Dream simply learned to remember it through him. Shockingly an easy feat. 

The clanging of swords and the heat were both a welcome comfort, Dream was soaking in the sun like some sort of lizard on its rock.

Dream just hoped he wouldn’t eat his words later. Blue had sent ichor and a few others on a mission to simply attend the latest ball, and annual celebration for one of his brother’s elite knights. The Criminal, he thought, the one with the tiger mask. Killer. The parties hadn’t had conflict in the four years they’d been running, and Dream was pretty sure ichor wouldn’t go missing. Yet, anyone they sent directly to the capital had a habit of not returning. Blue had forbade him from sending more spies that way, and had only agreed to send a small party because the ball was meant to be open to the public, so they wouldn’t be technically intruding or trespassing. Along with that, Ichor wasn’t directly affiliated with their cause. Eclipse, up until now, was usually the one more familiar with intel-work. Ichor had always been more focused on welfare and support. So, Ichor couldn’t be recognized. ‘

Dream would just have a lot of explaining to do if his promise went awry. Grieving souls were never easy, especially those who had children in tow. They often loved the hardest, and fell shortly after their beloved. Frankly, Dream didn’t want to lose two promising members of the rebellion, or be left with their children in the worst case scenario.

The prince sighed to himself. Blue would scold him for thinking like this. Maybe he should worry less about the return party and more about his own training. He couldn’t risk getting rusty now. 

-     -

Dream was aware the range was a bit out of his sight from where he’d wandered off to get a drink of water, but when he returned, he hadn’t expected to find an arrow embed itself into the block he was passing beside. 

He jumped a bit with the force of the heavy thunk and almost choked on his own breath when he spotted exactly who was actually training with a bow of all things. 

Across the range, looking wide-eyed and surprised, was Blue! He had their heavy long-bow clutched in his right hand, an arrow hanging to his side y his left, and a whole slew of arrows leaned against the fence behind him, the kind with thin, piercing points that could tear through armor. Dream had never been more baffled, amused, and amazed all in one. Why was Blue training archery?

“Dream! Hey!” Blue called out, and he sounded a bit awkward. 

Dream took a moment to examine the arrow which had pieced the block of hay they were using as a target. It had entirely missed the circle, actually passing itself at an odd angle through he side, the point poking out from the other end haphazardly. That must’ve used a lot of force if nothing else. 

Actually, it seemed Blue might’s been making some progress. Dream had been gone for almost half an hour, caught up in talk with one of the new refugees, welcoming them to the camp. That had given his knight plenty of time to try more than enough shots. Dream spotted now the several arrows which had dug themselves into the dirt, all at a downward falling angle as through Blue had been aiming for the dirt. Then, beyond the hay bale, he could see that several trees in the woods beyond had arrows embedded in them. He didn’t know how he’d missed them, honestly. 

Dream circled back and gripped one which had dug into a pine tree’s skinny trunk, and tugged with all his might. He nearly stumbled, and the end of the arrow seemed to have sap coating it, like blood of the tree itself. 

Dream actually laughed as he finally approached his knight, the arrow in-hand. 

“If you wanted syrup so badly, we could’ve asked for some on the resupply.” Dream joked.

He tapped the shaft of the arrow to the top of Blue’s skull, and the knight sheepishly ducked away from the sticky feeling, the arrow moving with him for a moment before springing away. Blue’s eyelights didn’t evade Dream’s, but Dream couldn’t help but notice the embarrassment becoming far more potent from his friend. 

“Ah, yes, you see…” Blue started, before pausing, “I had no intention of harming the flora.” Blue said, though it seemed a bit half-hearted. 

Blue rubbed at his skull as he lowered the long-bow from his front, down to his side. It was a huge weapon, with a string practically made of metal. Dream didn’t usually bother with the long-bows, sticking to the normal bows, or in desperate situations, crossbows. It took way too much power to shoot a longbow for his liking, limited movement. Usually people on horses used them. Dream couldn’t see the light leave someone’s eye from atop a finicky horse. 

“It was a good shot, even if you didn’t mean to hit the poor tree, Blue.” Dream amended. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Blue, it was obvious the mood was tanking with Dream’s ill-timed jokes. “Can I ask why you’re trying out the long-bow today?” 

The feeling of Blue’s pride washing over Dream like a comforting blanket as the other seemed to get a second wind. He puffed his chest and lifted the bow right in front of him again. 

“The Magnificent Blue has actually been learning to shoot for some time! The smaller ones that you use are not very cooperative, but this large one does well!” The explained proudly, “It was meant to be a surprise, but I would not lie to you!” 

He seemed largely unbothered by the fact that this secret of his had just been broken wide open. Though, Dream had to imagine this had been going on for a while now. The last time Dream had seen Blue attempt to shoot an arrow, it had narrowly avoided breaking their window in the back garden. They still had a notch in the wall on the back porch, because Dream begged Blue not to fill it in. He’d laughed so hard, and back then he’d needed a good-

“Wait, why was it going to be a surprise?” Dream asked curiously, raising a brow to watch Blue.

The knight laughed loudly, “Because! The plan was to get very very good at it, and then join you for a practice one day and show you! I know you are very talented with lond-range weapons, and if I were too, then I could fight beside you without placing you in danger! You mentioned it once, a while back.” Blue explained as though it was the simplest thing in the world. 

Dream felt a little something in his chest shift to the left as he processed what Blue was referencing. He had mentioned that. Back when they had to scare off some bandits during their trip here, before they found the cottage. He wished Blue hadn’t had to charge in while Dream sat up in a tree and shot at them. Dream had wanted to be in the fray, but… Blue thought he wanted them both to be long range fighters? So they could stay close? 

That was up there with some of the most heartwarming things Blue had ever done for Dream. Trust him, there were a LOT of heartwarming things Blue had done. This was surely, however, in the top 15. 

“Oh, that’s kind of you.” Dream said gently, 

In his distraction, Blue had knocked another arrow and lifted it up. Lined it. Drew the string back. Released. 

The heavy string cut through the air with a vocal slapping noise, and both skeletons watched idly as the arrow arced through the air and just hardly skimmed the top of the hay bail, chunking into the ground somewhere behind it instead. There was a moment of Blue letting out a breath and calmly lowering the bow before he grinned again at Dream. His expression was so concentrated not two moments before. 

“You know that I would do anything for you, Dream. Besides, using a bow is rather fun! I was unaware of how careful you have to be while firing, and setting it up, and aiming.” He listed off with a laugh. 

Now the bow was back at Blue’s side, and Dream was even a bit impressed with his bow etiquette. It wasn’t pressed to the first at his side, he wasn’t fidgeting and bending it, even his motions before he hadn’t dared to dryfire with it. He wondered if Blue had picked it up from him, or if he’d sought out advice from another bowman somewhere. Either way.

“I never meant to discourage you from using your hammer, Blue. I know you’re the happiest while fighting with it.” Dream said earnestly, “But if you wish to continue working with the long-bow, I’m sure I could give you a few pointers.” 

At the enthused expression he received from his knight, Dream grinned, “And then maybe you could teach me to use a hammer. Or, maybe a morning star? They always seemed to have a fitting name.” Dream teased, but Blue seemed even more delighted by the thought.

“That sounds great! We should start now!” Blue agreed, and readied his bow again. 

Dream was a bit startled, but couldn’t bring himself to deny the enthusiasm. After all, he’d been hoping to train with Blue today anyways. 

He watched again as Blue lined up his shot, but this time, he actually watched carefully. He moved behind Blue, and immediately saw a smidge of problem. 

“Here, lift your elbow a bit higher.” He instructed, He stepped forward and set his hand under Blue’d elbow, the one which was pulling his arrow back. He shifted under the touch and stopped right where Dream stopped nudging. Immediately his posture looked a lot better, and his aim seemed more sure. 

“Try pointing a bit further to the right, you’re leaning left.” He added on, and saw Blue squint a bit harder at his target, before repositioning his aim, shifting his feet along with it before Dream could say anything. 

Then, when Dream gave the commend to release, Blue sent the arrow flying. 

This time, it whistled as it shot and struck the bail right at the top ring of the target, almost dead center. Blue whooped an excitement, and Dream hummed. He could’ve sworn that would’ve hit the bullseye…

Without much through, Dream summoned his own bow and took aim from Blue’s side. His night went quiet, watching intently, and Dream let loose his arrow with less than half the preparation time, hardly a thought. Just as he’d expected of Blue’s, the arrow pierced the center of the ring flawlessly, though it didn’t sink in nearly as deep. His brow furrowed as the stared at the target. Why hadn’t Blue’s shot done that?

Sure, the bow was heavier, the arrow too, but the fundamentals should’ve been the same. The golden arrow and landed below the other one, why was that?

“Dream?” Blue’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Dream blinked at Blue, and Blue stared back at him, seeming mildly worried.

“My apologies, could you try hitting my arrow? I’ll spot you again.” Dream requested, and Blue just nodded and prepared himself again. 

This time, Blue automatically placed his elbow up and turned himself to the right. Dream didn’t even need to do more than a little nudge to his arm to encourage a slight but more movement to the right. Blue should strike this perfectly.

The arrow flew, beautifully with a bit of a spin, and… Lodged a few inches to the left of the target. He was aiming right! How-

Ohhhhhh.

“That was great, Blue! You had everything but an extra set of eyes to direct you, good work!” Dream praised.

Now Blue celebrated properly, wrapping his arms around Dream’s sides in a heavy hug. A familiar one that Dream returned, as he realized how silly he had been for a moment. His arrows weren’t affected by the wind. Blue’s weren’t magic, so of course the air would throw them off course! For a brief, horrifying, moment he worried he’d somehow stumbled in his directions. It was just the wind. 

Blue's hug was tight and affectionate, and very very welcome. Dream savored it, returning it tightly, until Blue released him and raised the bow once more. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to train until the caravan arrived in a few hours.

-    -    

Poor choices. He didn’t make many, but he wasn’t going to try and claim that training right up until the arrival was a good call. All he was expected to do was welcome them back, and then listen toIchor recount any important information they’d picked up on, but still. He didn’t enjoy being all grimy and sweaty and middy was the best look or the most comfortable. His only solace was that Blue was equally messay, so he didn’t feel too out of place.

Ask they approached the path into camp, they saw that the light of a lantern was glowing just a bit down the way, and there alone the road stood the sentinels for the night, and Eclipse. 

Eclipse still wore that same tunic as before, though it had gained a grass stain along the bottom hem, no doubt from Copper breaking off at a full sprint at some point during the day. The skeleton himself was without his children, and when Blue greeted him and asked, it turned out he’d left them with someone named Jodie. One of the humans, he believed, a kind elderly woman here with her adult son. Eclipse looked exhausted, but Dream could tell is must’ve been from building worry. Nim help him and make sure that Ichor returns on that cart in one piece.

They stood there together in the quiet, and when the carriage pulled to a stop before them, Dream counted as each person hopped off and stood at attention before himself and Blue. One, two, three, for, five, six, seven… Eight. Ichor must’ve been looking to give his partner a soul-attack, because he was the last of the party to jump off the back of the cart, a thick bag slung over his back and his grin wide and stupid as ever.

Dream acted like he didn’t notice as Eclipse bowled into Ichor’s side, nearly tripping the both of them over and into the grass. Technically, procedure was that Dream would be the first to hear any of them speak, as they could’ve been keeping secrets. However, he knew better than to get between lover birds. That was more of a headache than it was worth. 

Only when the two were done and Eclipse gave Ichor a swift peck on the forehead did Dream usher everyone into the debriefing tent to discuss their findings.

“You’re saying he’s bringing in new knights?” Dream questioned.

Everyone had been explaining their stories, but it seemed that Ichor had managed to get the closest. Hear the most. A servant had tripped over him and spilled a red wine on his suit, so he followed them back to the servants halls to get it cleaned up. Because he was so amicable, the maids weren’t very quiet and told him exciting news. Two more knights being trained.

Ichor had asked more, as much as he dared, but all he could get was that one of them was straight out of the dungeon, and the other one was burly and definitely a foreigner. Some sort of hired body, they swore. It’d be fall when the next party was rumored to be happening. 

Dream hated to hear such a thing. The first criminal was enough, but this second one? And then another? Dream couldn’t fathom what sorts of horrible plans were being fed into his twin’s mind, what horrid plans they were going to enact, criminals and thugs running the country by his brother’s side? 

He sighed a bit, resting a hand against his chin. 

“Did you see my twin at all?” He asked then, to the group.

Ichor was the only one to nod, and Dream gestured to him. 

“The guy was just as guarded as ya said. The Tiger kept circling back up to the balcony where he was hanging, but the stairs were all blocked off by guards, and some other folks were sitting up there with him. Magic on one of ‘em was strong.” Ichor explained, and Dream squinted as the torchlight glinted off of the skeleton’s single gold tooth. Now his pelt had been returned to him, and he looked perfectly barbaric, like the first day Dream had seen him. 

“Mm, unfortunate. My brother is smart, he wouldn’t spare any detail in his protection, I suppose.” Dream muttered, before simply nodding. “Thank you, all. I’m sure you’ve had a tiring past few nights. Go to your tents and rest up, I’ll call upon you if I need to speak with you again sometime later in the week.” 

He didn’t really want to dismiss them, but it was obvious half of them had gotten drunk off their asses within the first five minutes of being at the party. Ichor was really the only one with any good information, and even then, it was extremely limited. Of course, Dream had to be grateful that Nightmare must’ve been slipping with controlling the tittering tongues of his servants, it saved him the trouble of having to wait any longer for information. 

Nightmare adding new, dangerous, knights was not ideal, 

He watched as the party slowly filtered out, some stumbling, some half-awake, and even Ichor yawning as he ducked out of the tent. The only one who didn’t immediately flee was Blue, who sat for a few minutes longer before popping to his feet, gathering the notes strewn across the table, and helping Dream to his feet. 

Together, they left the tent and moved back to the cottage. By now it was far into the night, and Dream could see the stars out. The moon, a thin crescent, seemed to mock him as he took careful steps in the darkness of the path.  At least he’d gotten to enjoy the remaining sun the day had gifted him. 

When they entered the cottage, Dream groaned and moved immediately for the couch. He could try to sleep, but he knew Blue still had to do his nightly routine, and he wouldn't be able to rest with the new information that had been provided. 

“We’ll figure it out.” Blue said unprompted from across the main room. 

His friend was organizing the papers from tonight into a nice little box where they kept all the notes for their plans, and when he placed it back on the shelf, he moved over to the dummy in the corner of the room where he always hung his armor. Every night. 

“I know we will, it’s just…” Ough, he couldn’t say it! This was so infuriating! Every scout who managed to come back only brought him worse and worse news. 

“Do you know, or are you just saying that? Because I know that I know we can figure this out! Two monsters can’t make the difference in a coup!” Blue stated matter-of-factly as he undid the buckles on his chest plate and lifted it up onto its rightful spot. Next followed the boots and Dream watched him. The prince was practically deflated on the cushions of the old couch, a pillow quickly tugged into this arms. 

He was right. Dream knew it, he usually was after all. Still. It wasn’t the fighting that worried him. No, he and Blue alone could probably beat up whatever petty criminals were cabhorting with his twin. It was just… 

“I do. I just- I- I don’t know how my twin could be so stupid!” He exclaimed, practically burying his skull into the pillow, bringing his knees up to his chest, practically curling into a ball. “He was meant to be my advisor, he was the clever one. How could he resort to killers and hired mercenaries. After all those classes he used to tell me about, all the lessons he had to go to, how could he decide to take this path?” He said, hoping his voice was muffled by the cushion.

Unfortunately, like most items in this cottage, it seemed to be cheap and only decorative. No muffling capabilities in sight. He heard Blue sigh, and for a few minutes, the only noise was Blue removing the rest of his armor. 

When it faded, he strained to listen, and caught the floorboards creaking ever so gently under the weight of his friend’s approach. Then there was a pause, and then a weight on Dream’s skull. It trailed heavily down his neck and to his shoulders, before repeating itself. A soothing motion, one that Dream resisted for a moment. 

“I never got to meet him, but I do know you! I think we can definitely knock some sense back into him.” Blue reassured him, and this time Dream listened. 

Blue was right, after all. Blue had been able to knock sense into Dream. If anyone could bring Nightmare back to his senses, it would be Blue. 

He let the skeleton keep doing that comforting motion against his skull for a few more minutes, savoring the contact, before he sighed heavily and shrugged. Blue retracted his hand, and was watching Dream with a soft smile when the prince finally lifted his head. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, before Dream smiled back. 

They both really needed to get some rest. 

[thedandelionresistance]

Repeat after me: something being unhealthy or otherwise causing the person doing it distress does not make it morally wrong.

(This is part of healthism.)

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[lord-squiggletits]

Like I'm not one of those story "critics" who will nitpick the smallest inconsistency and call it a plot hole that ruins the whole story. I'm okay with inconsistencies and even the occasional plot hole if it ends up producing a story that's interesting, gripping, and brings up interesting things.

The problem is that suspension of disbelief only stretches so far. And secondly, stuff like character drama and themes are only as strong as the plot that supports them. If the plot is full of contrivances, plot holes, and really stupid things that make it feel like the author is just forcing something to happen to move the story along, then the themes and character drama become much less convincing.

[beechicory]

Argh.

[malachitezmeyka]

I know it's useless to get mad at the dog, she's just a hyperactive little thing who doesn't know how to behave yet. She's left home alone for at least 6 hours every day and she's bored, I can't blame her for tearing apart her training pads or shitting all over the place. Even if I did, she must have done it hours ago, dogs don't get that actions that happened so long ago have consequences and all me yelling at her will result in is her being scared of me. I know all that, I do

So WHY am I still so angry at her?? Why does it feel satisfying to lash out and see her scurry away??? She doesn't deserve to be treated like that, she doesn't know any better. And I don't know how to teach her to know better, I don't have the patience for it. She deserves better than me