#after they called asking for their help

[nelkcats]

My son wants to destroy the world, how do I stop him? - Search

It had been a few months since Phantom joined the League. Although he was more of an emergency contact they called in worse cases than a real member. According to the Justice League Dark, he was a ruler of another dimension so he couldn't be around all the time.

When Wonder Woman complained about his commitment to the team, Phantom frowned and called her hypocritical. Apparently Phantom watched over all the dimensions, so asking him to protect one in particular was stupid, or worse, selfish. Diana ended up very embarrassed after learning about it.

Then, it was strange for Phantom to stay beyond 5 minutes after providing his help, so Bruce was surprised to see the boy walking towards him looking extremely nervous and asking for a conversation. Bruce agreed out of curiosity.

The conversation took a strange turn when Phantom started praising his parenting skills (Bruce was proud of his kids clearly, but how the fuck did Phantom know his identity?), and complimented him on...Red Hood's self-control??? And what a good kid he was??

Apparently, Phantom had a son (Bruce was starting to believe in the "immortal" part that Constantine talked about), but he had a terrible temper and loved to destroy dimensions, for which he was often punished (Bruce was at a loss for words), Phantom assured him that no dimension that didn't deserve it was destroyed but he didn't know how to change Dan's approach.

The King insisted that he was fine with his son destroying dimensions as long as his grandfather authorized it, since they had forgiven him and those dimensions were finished anyway (Batman was grateful that his mask would not show his facial expression) but that destroying everyone would affect him in the long run and he was worried about him.

In the end, Bruce invited them to the mansion, or rather, invited Phantom to talk to Alfred and he told him he would bring his son. Bruce remembered that Jason would be visiting that day and wondered how badly the meeting would go.

[confused-wanderer]

Everyone gets terrified when they see Dick put on the Cape and go into downright brooding shadow death aura mode, capturing Bruce’s scowl and glare to an uncanny extent.

They don’t know that the real reason Nightwing had to get real good real fast at transforming into batman is because in his early batman days he accidentally smiled while trying to talk down this guy from blowing up a building.

They made eye contact for a split second, before the guy burst into tears. He then proceeded to rip off the bomb, throw up, faint, wake up, throw up again before immediately running for the window of the 45th floor of a building.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

We've seen DP and DC be different universes where Danny and Valerie are the only heroes in DP, but there are thousands of heroes in DC. We've seen where DP and DC are in the same universe, and Amity Park just thinks the Justice League are ignoring them.

But what if DP and DC are different universes, BUT Danny and Val aren't the only heroes?

If we treat superheroes as basically cops/military with superpowers, then we can infer what heroes would be like using cop/military statistics. You could even use My Hero Academia society as a basis. Things like "heroes are more interested in protecting private property than serving the public" and "Heroes have high levels of PTSD and physical disability and aren't helped after they retire" are common knowledge in Danny's universe.

And specifically, the one I wanted to make clear for this prompt: In Danny's universe, heroes are highly likely to abuse their family/sidekicks outside the mask.

Suddenly, Danny's in the DC universe. For a low-stakes reason; if he's there because the DP universe imploded or his parents tried to kill him, he'd be too concerned about himself to act on his instincts. No, Danny's there for a vacation and there are so many heroes and kid heroes that he feels sick.

Maybe he catches Batman being rough with his kids, or overhears Superman "belittling" Superboy (Conner). Nevertheless...

Danny ends up thinking that all the Justice League are abusing their sidekicks and families and becomes a villain to save them.

[shadowtraveled]

In your Mithrun analysis, when you say “maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.” who is the ‘someone’ in your mind? Milsiril? Kabru and the canaries? I loved your analysis, so I’m curious

OH kabru absolutely

milsiril spared him and, decades later, helped him with his physical rehabilitation, but it seems like she more or less gave up on his personhood. no more desires -> no more mithrun as we knew him -> no more mithrun. she spared him because he wasn’t completely devoid of motivation to live, and she used the single motivator he had left to eventually get him to keep himself alive, and she briefly even seemed to want to try and instill some of his old mask (even with the understanding that that’s what it was) back into him, but that fell through immediately and i think with it went her optimism that mithrun would ever… be a person again. “too late now, i guess.”

then the canaries are on good enough terms with him, but they’re practically instructed to treat him like a weapon or a tool they’re maintaining. i believe it’s cithis that tells kabru to take care of mithrun but clarifies that really what that is is just making sure he eats. ensuring his baseline needs for survival are met. and really, that’s all she was ever tasked with. when it’s all over and mithrun is cataleptic, the canaries stay physically near him, but they seem to have accepted that he’s gone—without the demon to chase, he has nothing to live for. cithis, though, seems to be closer to mithrun than any of the others, and i don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s the one who calls lycion off and encourages kabru to try engaging with him when she hears the beginning of what he has to say.

this post caught a lot of my opinions regarding mithrun’s relationships (linking to my reblog of it because i dumped some thoughts in the tags) but tldr i do think milsiril and the canaries fall short of thinking of mithrun as a person, and that’s why their relationships with him fail him somewhat. i don’t think that’s their fault, because it seems like they were taught to think of losing your desires as a complete loss of self and humanity, but it does mean they see mithrun as someone who has already been lost. kabru is demonstrably different in that he’s able to help mithrun see a future beyond the demon, and he’s able to do it because he deals with mithrun like he’s human. because he is. and all of that stems from the specific aspect of kabru’s personality that is his obsession with people

[kacievvbbbb]

This is so shanks coded to me. Like he just keeps losing people and he never learns how to deal with it. So much so that he becomes the abandoning parent. He literally knows nothing else all he has as a frame of reference is all the adult figures in his life leaving him and telling him it is for the best. So why exactly wouldn’t he believe that the best way to love someone is by letting go?

He does it to Luffy, he does it to Uta and in some ways he does it to Buggy and Mihawk too. Because he never just asks them to stay. He lets Buggy run out of his life even though it was pretty obvious that Buggy wanted Shanks to fight for this to take a stand a real one on a conviction for once and he…doesn��t, he just lets buggy leave.

And then he hitches his wagon to the most flighty (dude is literally a bird motif 😭) mother fucker he can find. he lets Mihawk wander in and out of his life as he pleases regardless of what is best for either of them. Because maybe Mihawk has nothing better to do 👀. Maybe he would say yes now if Shanks asks. but Shanks would rather die than ask, would cut off his other arm before he even attempted to “clip Mihawk’s wings”

And that’s like the truth of it. Shanks has been abandoned by every person that has ever loved him besides his crew and he knows they will never leave him. But Maybe he just wants someone to stay not because they call him captain.

[gingermintpepper]

Why did Apollo favor the trojans in the Illiad?

So, dear Anon, I've been thinking about how to answer this question since I got it a couple days ago and I think I kind of want to make something clear before I get into it.

The Iliad by itself as a poem only covers some of the events that occur in the final year of a long protracted conflict that had been brewing for at least two decades and was an active war for ten. Within the space of the Iliad itself, the motivations and affairs of the major players are often referenced but there are many, many parts of the story that are not there because they belong to a different story cycle that has been since lost or was never recorded with words. In the space of the Iliad Apollo's motivations are questioned a lot - his pride is questioned by Poseidon who thinks Apollo should be just as angry at the Trojans as he considering Apollo was treated equally as poorly by Laomedon while they worked together. His honour is questioned by Hera who chastises him for taking the Trojans' side when he'd proclaimed that Achilles would live a long life and prosper at Thetis and Peleus' wedding. His own sister calls him a coward for refusing to fight when Zeus gives permission for the gods to go wild on the battlefield. For all that there's this image of Apollo in the Iliad as some staunch and unwavering protector of the Trojans, believe it or not, I largely think of Apollo as neutral in the war.

Which, I suppose, comes back to the question - why did Apollo favour the Trojans? The truthful answer is that I don't know. The Iliad and all its connected stories isn't something I've done enough research on to have an answer or a reference to an answer off the top of my head. The reasoning I'm aware of is that Apollo was a Patron God of Troy and really a god doesn't need any reason besides that to protect his people but it's not like Apollo abandoned the Greeks either. Calchas is the biggest example of that I can point to - descended directly from a priest of Apollo and one who attributed his mantic power to the god, Calchas was pivotal in ensuring the Greeks even got to Troy in the first place.

From a personal perspective however, I think Apollo was more dedicated to the house of Priam than he was the city of Troy itself. Apollo's affection for that house and all its members ran deep - from his admiration of Hecuba and Hector to his love and attempted courtship of Cassandra to his blessings given to Helenus, Deiphobos, Cassandra, Troilus and even his partnership with Paris - Apollo loved the house of Priam. When you think about the times Apollo lashes out against the Greeks, it's generally because they've done some nonsense to earn his ire. The plague was caused by Agamemnon disrespecting his priest, his aid in the slaughter of Patroclus was because he didn't respect him, his minor grudge against Diomedes too was because he tried to test Apollo's mettle and well, the less said about Achilles the better. Apart from his obvious favouring of Hector in the skirmishes, Apollo doesn't really oppose the Greeks. He has a ton of reasons to by the time the Iliad rolls around, including avenging the death of two of his sons, but he remains mostly satisfied with conducting his father's business and overseeing the war from a somewhat professional perspective. To me, it's always been less about Apollo caring about the fate of Troy as a city itself and more about him just really wanting to protect the people in the city that he's come to love and respect.

Of course, I encourage you to take my words with a big tablespoon of salt - like I said, I don't really know enough about the facts in particular to give a solid, confident answer but I can give you my interpretation of it. Maybe consult someone like @littlesparklight for a more comprehensive and grounded response 🤔

[strangersteddierthings]

[To read on Ao3]

It's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. He doesn't understand why everyone won't just stop asking if he wants to talk.

It'll be better for you to get it out of your system, Steve. (Nancy) Talking these things through really helped me, Steve. (Max) You know we're here for you, don't you, Steve? (Dustin) If anyone understands, it's us. Me. You know that, right, Steve? (Robin)

Isn't he allowed to have one damn secret to himself!? Robin did almost get him to crack because out of everyone, Robin would understand his ridiculous, almost overwhelming crush on Eddie Munson.

He's not keeping it a secret because he's embarrassed of his crush, but because he's afraid of rejection for the first time ever. Based on past experience, Steve has always been the one doing the rejecting. In fact, Steve would argue he's never been rejected before. Nancy and he broke up, and breaking up doesn't count as rejection. It's just a change in feelings. And Robin didn't reject him because she had told a half truth when they thought they were gonna die, and then came out to him when he confessed, and rejection also doesn't count if you were never a romantic option to begin with.

Eddie is the first crush he's had (that he's willing to, eventually, act upon) that he's uncertain about. Eddie flirts with him, sure, but he also flirts with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. He doesn't shy away from Steve's touch, but he rarely initiates it himself. Everything Steve tries to test, to gauge Eddie's interest, just falls flat, or doesn't work, or isn't enough to show if Eddie likes him romantically or as a friend.

Anyway, it's Saturday evening and Steve is annoyed. Annoyed because he knows that waiting for him at his own house is an ambush (an intervention, they'd called it) from his own supposed friends. Steve had just listened to them plan the whole thing over the walkie talkie.

When Steve pulls into his driveway, he's a little impressed at that fact nothing looks off. There are no extra cars, no bikes scattered across the lawn. The house looks dark, even.

When he goes for the door, it's unlocked, though, which is the dead giveaway. Steve sighs heavily before letting himself in. He doesn't bother to flick on the light in the foyer, just shrugging out of the Family Video vest and toeing off his shoes, leaving both in a pile by the door before squinting into the house.

It is dark, but he can make out irregular shapes, lightly illuminated by the light from the backyard coming through the large windows on the far wall. It looks like they've rearranged his furniture. He also hears the slight creak of the floorboards, from the kitchen. That would be Lucas, who Steve knows has been tasked with sneaking around and making sure Steve can't just bolt back out the front door (like he's ever actually run away from a confrontation).

They were very thorough with the planning. Steve knows where a majority of people are lurking, cutting him off from 'fleeing'. Lucas in the kitchen, to cut him off from the front door. El at the top of the stairs so he can't hide in his room. Argyle stationed in the hall that leads to the garage. Everyone else scatted throughout the living and dining room.

Might as well get this over with.

Steve makes it about halfway to the living room before a single floor lamp lights up. It illuminates Robin, who has turned his father's favorite chair around to face the front door instead of the TV, arm still up from where she'd twisted the nob on the lamp. "Steve. We need to talk."

"Buckley," Steve answers, calm as he can manage, surveying the room. Everyone else is just out of the line of light from this ancient lamp. He wonders how they managed that. Still. He knows they're here, so with as much confidence as he can muster, he looked directly at an out of place shadow and hopes he's right as he says, "you want to talk, too, I suppose?"

"How-" it's Dustin's voice that starts to speak and is quickly cut off with a smacking sound. Steve's willing to bet it's Max or Erica who slaps a hand over Dustin's mouth to keep him quit.

"Okay, so Dustin's here, too," Robin says, trying to regain control of the ambush but Steve's not having it.

He puts his hands on his hips and says in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the quiet house, "And Lucas, sneaking though the kitchen to the door. Argyle in the hallway, El upstairs. The rest of you are here, too. I heard the whole thing on the walkie."

"What! You were supposed to be at work!" Dustin yelps as almost every light flicks on at once. Each light switch has a person stationed at it. Steve can now see Jonathan and Nancy to his right, Dustin, Max, and Mike also to the right, but further into the living room. To the left, Argyle has made his was from the hallway, and Eddie (Jesus fuck, only this group of assholes bring his crush to the intervention about refusing to talk about his crush! (not that they know about the crush)), Erica and Will mirror the position of the others, almost against the wall to stay out of the light from the windows. He hears the stairs creak as El makes her way down.

"I was. It was slow. I got the walkie from my trunk to ask someone to save me from boredom just in time to hear your scheming," says Steve.

"We aren't scheming, Steve," Robin says, standing from the chair now and stepping closer. "We're worried. You don't talk to us."

"I talk to, like, almost all of you every day!"

"Not about important things!"

"I happen to think that discussing the newest releases is important. Tells me a lot about all of your guys' terrible taste in movies."

"Steve!" Nancy steps in now, "this is serious."

"It's really not. You are all making a big deal about this and it's not!" Steve says.

"Why are you keeping this from us?" Max pipes up, "if you can't talk to us about this, then who can you? We understand."

"Look, I know we've all experienced this.... issue, at some point, but that's doesn't mean I want to talk to any of you about it-"

"Issue he says! You can't even say it," Robin challenges him, matching his hands on hip stance, mirroring him.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. This is getting ridiculous. Of course, he can't say it! He's barely gotten through his sexuality crisis and hasn't even come out to Robin yet! He wants to, really, but... "Listen. I appreciate that you are all so invested in this, but you need- sorry, no. I need you to let me do this at my own pace."

"It's been since '83! How much longer do you need!?" Dustin is looking at him like he's grown a second head and that-

What. Wait. What? Steve's brain screeched to a halt. "What."

"What what?" Dustin raises his hands, confused. "You need to talk to someone about what we all went though. The Upside Down! We all talk to you, but you don't talk to any of us and bottling it up isn't healthy."

Steve's arms go limp at his sides and all he can do is blink. They aren't- they don't think- Steve's brain hasn't restarted yet, which is what he blames for what leaves his mouth next. "Wait. This isn't about my crush on Eddie?"

A clatter and the sound of glass breaking, accompanied by Eddie's voice cursing follows that. Steve looked over to see that Eddie seems to have fallen back against the wall he was near, knocking a picture from the wall in the process. He's staring at Steve, though, eyes owlish and he looks like he's about to either faint or run away.

Steve's gut twists because neither of those were the reaction he'd hoped for (but they are the reactions he most expected).

"Your WHAT," Robin screeches and that brings Steve back to his brain.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

He just. He just came out to everyone, all at once, in his living room. This is fine, this is fine. He can deal with this. The room and everyone (oh God, everyone) in it fades away as Steve puts one palm flat on his own chest, focuses on feeling his own touch, on the rise and fall of his chest, trying to remember how he draws breath usually. Normally he can pull himself back this way but it's so much, too much, everyone is watching him-

"Steve. Hand," El's voice is distant but he obeys, hand going out on instinct. El takes it and he feels someone else breathing deep. "Follow. In. In. In. In. Hold. Out. Out. Out. Out. Again. In-" El repeats and repeats, counting each second with a word, and slowly she comes into view, her hand held over his on Lucas' chest. El talks him through it as Lucas demonstrates because it's hard to give instruction and breathe at the same time. This is not the first time El's helped him through a panic attack, but it's usually Hopper who has to demonstrate the breathing for him.

She stops when he calms, allows him to pull his hand away from Lucas but not her own hand. She brings her other to clasp around his, holding his one hand with both of hers.

"Thank you," he whispers.

She gives him a nod, face still serious as she stands next to him.

Steve takes in his surroundings. His panic attack wasn't too long, thankfully, but enough that everyone has moved. He seeks out Eddie subconsciously and finds he's relieved to see that he's taken a seat on the couch, Will next to him all but tucked into his side. No one left, and Steve's glad for that, but they all look so uncertain and off kilter now, scattered across the living room. Robin is a few steps closer than she was before and looks like she wants to finish stepping forward, but not sure if she should.

"Um, thank you guys, for not freaking out while I was freaking out," Steve says, reaching out his other hand to Robin. She takes it and he pulls her into a half hug. "So, uhh, I thought I knew what this was about but guess I didn't."

"Of all the things to think we'd stage an intervention for, having a crush on Ed-someone is certainly not that high on our priority list," Robin snorts from where she's buried her head in his shoulder.

"Well, it makes sense now that it's not about- Maria said I should have talked to you guys sooner, like individually, but too late I guess."

"Who the fuck is Maria!?"

"Language, Henderson," Steve snaps on instinct. "She's my therapist."

For the second time tonight, Robin says, "your WHAT?"

"Therapist?" Steve repeats, but it sounds like a question even to himself because he's almost afraid there's a wrong answer here.

"I didn't know you were seeing a therapist, Steve," Nancy says, voice gentle in a way Nancy's voice really isn't usually. "Do you talk about- I don't know how to phrase this without prying."

Steve rescues her from the awkwardness of having to ask. "She knows about the Upside Down. Dr Owens introduced her after Starcourt. Why are you surprised by this?"

"Because we didn't know," says Dustin.

"I see Maria every Tuesday. How did you not know?" Steve asks.

"What do you mean how did we not know!?" Dustin shouts.

"Can you not shout at me?" Steve sighs. He needs to sit down, so he does. Just drops there, dragging Robin and El with him. Neither complains, though. "I've been going to therapy every Tuesday since '83. I guess it just became part of my schedule, so I don't think about it. And I did, like, actively hide I was seeing a therapist that first year so guess that was habit."

"Is this why you don't talk to us?" Robin's voice is quiet.

"Well, yeah. I didn't realize it was affecting you all so much that I didn't. I thought- I am talking about it. I told Maria about a nightmare I had just last week, I'm not bottling it all up," Steve reassures, "You all talk to me. I didn't wanna create some like, trauma loop where we just talk about how awful it was back and forth and never get, like, closure with it, so I didn't share back. I've just been trying to do for you guys what Maria does for me, but I'm not, like, qualified."

"We could all use some therapy," Nancy says in what seems to be a rather agreeable voice for the tone of the room currently, "but why were you the only one offered help after Starcourt?"

"Oh. Well. It was less Dr Owens offering Maria's service, and more my mom barely refraining from murdering Owens on the spot until he gave into every demand she had. Which, being fair to Owens, he was more than willing to help to begin with."

"Your mom spoke to Owens?" Jonathan speaks for the first time.

"Oh. Wow," Steve blinks, feeling a bit thrown. There's so much he's unintentionally hid from his friends, things that could have been helping them (like them talking to Maria instead of him, have any of them even been offered therapy?) but he's also realizing that they've made an awful lot of assumptions about him without talking to him. "So, wait, I need to know something. How did this come to happen?" He half-heartedly waves towards everything around him with the arm he has half wrapped around Robin.

"The intervention?" Max asks.

"Sorta? No. I get why you thought you needed to intervene, but I don't understand why you came to that conclusion without like, asking me things? All of you were like talk to us Steve we can help Steve we understand Steve but how did it not occure to any of you that I might already be talking to someone?"

It seems the only one brave enough to answer is the person who has known Steve the least, because Argyle says, "far as they could tell, who would you talk to that's not them, bro? Like, you come home to a big empty house. On bad days, Nancy can still cuddle up to her mom and just be held even though Mrs. Wheeler doesn't know what's up, but you're like, alone."

"I-what? What's the implication there?"

"Steve, we can count on one hand the number of times you've ever spoken about your parents," Nancy says, "I guess we all came to the conclusion that you were... you felt like you had to be alone in dealing with the trauma, like you're alone in this house. I mean, we dated for a year and a half, and I never even met your parents."

That's true, but it's because his parents were going through a rough patch and trying to work through his dad's... problem while also working on a big deal for the company. Steve's not going to pretend he knows how his dad's business works but it involves a lot of meetings in cities bigger than Hawkins. "You all mock me for being a rich kid, and then act... what, surprised that my parents actually have to run the company they own?"

"No. The only things you've ever told me about your parents was that your dad was an asshole and that you didn't want them to find out about beer at a party you threw!"

Well. That does paint his dad in a real bad light. "Well, I was younger and stupider when I said those things!"

"When the Russians drugged you, you made a comment. Something about only doing marijuana, dad," Robin says softly from his side. "it's kinda easy to draw the conclusion that your relationship with your parents might be negative at worst, absent at best."

Steve retracts his arm from around Robin, suddenly cold on the inside. He gently shakes off El as well and shoves off the ground so he's standing again, taking three steps back to be able to see everyone at a quick glance around. "I think it's best if we stop this here. I can't- I'm gonna say some shit I'll regret otherwise."

"Steve-"

"Robin," Steve cuts her off, feeling the need to defend his parents, who he loves so fucking much, from his friends. Anger rolls tight under his skin but he doesn't want to give in, so he goes cold instead. "I call my mom every night. They have a mobile phone my dad pays way too much for, so they can know I'm still alive no matter where they have to be currently. My parents are absent," he spits the word like venom, "because I begged them to leave after Starcourt and the only reason they didn't drag me out of here with them kicking and screaming is because I was 18 and legally, they couldn't! That's the only real fight I've ever had with my mom, you know. I told them they had to go because Hawkins is fucking cursed and I couldn't protect all of you and them and-" Steve clamps his mouth shut, swallows down the words. He's going to have to talk to Maria about his hero complex again (he thought he was getting better). No one says a thing in the silence, even though they all look like they want to. Steve takes a deep breath, trying to calm. "I'm going to go call my parents, because they're gonna start to worry, because they do that, if I don't call soon. Let yourselves out like you let yourselves in."

He doesn't quite stomp his way to the kitchen phone, but it's a close call. He could go up to the master bedroom and call privately but a part of him wants them to hear this conversation as they leave. He yanks the phone off the receiver a bit harder then needed and punches in the phone number he's got memorized now. It rings twice.

"Oh Steve, I was just starting to worry!"

"Hi mom. No need to worry. I'm, well, I'm not fine right now, but it's not any Upside Down nonsense."

"Oh, honey, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not, uh, not right now. I just wanted to hear your voice. To tell you I love you, and I miss you. Dad, too," as Steve speaks he hears the sounds of movement, of shuffling down the hallway and the front door. Resolutely, he keeps his back to the kitchen entrance.

"We love and miss you, too."

"When will you guys be able to come visit?"

"Honey, do you need us? We can be on a plane in a few hours."

Steve smiles at that, and hopes she can hear it in his voice, "no. But, uhh, I wouldn't mind seeing you guys sometime soon."

"We'll make it happen. Hey, how about we have that barbeque you mentioned before. We'd like to be able to meet the people keeping you safe. I do wish the Byers still lived in town, I'd love to catch up with Joyce".

"Oh! I can't believe I didn't tell you! The Byer's are moving back. Oh God! Mom! Hopper's not dead!"

There's a fumbling noise, like perhaps his mom dropped the phone. Some staticky noise, shuffling sounds, and his father's voices comes through the phone, "Steve, your mother looks pretty pale, kiddo. What did you just tell her?"

"Jim Hopper's alive and kicking. The Starcourt Russians kidnapped him apparently."

A deep sigh and then his dad says, "We'll be home in two days, okay kiddo? Gonna want a full explanation of that, but I've got to go, your mom's going to faint -sit down, Stephanie- We love you."

"Love you, too."

Steve hangs up and turns around to see El, Will, and Eddie still lingering by the kitchen entrance. He's not as angry on the inside anymore, and it helps that these three didn't really pipe in and call his parents terrible people who don't love him. (okay, so he's putting words into everyone's mouths, Maria will frown at him hard when he talks about this, but he's going to allow himself to be a little petty right now).

"I am sorry for being part of this," El says, "I do not want you mad at me."

"Never, El," Steve strides forwards, easily pulling El into a hug. She's probably just worried for him because everyone else was worried, and not because she has some idea about what his parents are like. Honestly, El's probably never even thought out Steve's parents even once. "I'm not really mad at anyone. Just... frustrated, and upset, perhaps. We'll all make amends tomorrow, I'm sure."

El releases him after a moment and before she's even fully out of his arms, Will is pulling him into a hug just as deep. Steve's not sure why, he and Will aren't particularly close, but Will clings to him and makes this soft, sob noise as he presses his face into Steve's shoulder, and Steve's wrapping his arms around him on instinct, "Oh, hey baby Byers, it's all good."

Will shakes his head no and just sobs for a moment. Steve lets him, rubs his back after a moment, trying to be soothing. It's a long hug but not awkward. Finally Will pulls back, swiping at his eye with both his hands. "I- thank you, Steve."

Steve is bewildered by that, and it must show on his face, because he hears Eddie try and hide a laugh behind a cough. Steve says, "you're welcome?"

Will doesn't clarify. He just steps back and El takes his hand easily, and the siblings leave, presumably to climb into the back of someone's waiting car.

Which leaves him alone in his house with Eddie.

Eddie, who knows about his crush now because Steve blurted it out loud for everyone to hear.

"I'll leave if you want me to," Eddie says, like he can read Steve's mind, even as he leans against the counter next to him like he plans to stay, "but I- I don't wanna start throwing everyone else under the bus, but I really just thought this was a case of Hero Complex where you think you're only good for getting between us and danger and that we were all gonna try and like, show you how important you are to us all so you'd open up to us. I didn't even think about, like, your parents."

Steve believes that, so he huffs a dry laugh, "yeah. I'm sure you're idea of my parents are snotty rich people who look down on everyone."

Eddie's got the decency to be embarrassed about that truth, if his red face is anything to go on. "Sure, but like, I thought the same thing about you and that turned out to be wrong, so I can admit that. Also, I thought you were an asshole who always got what they wanted, and that's not really a bad parent trait, y'know? Caring about what your kid wants."

"Well, thanks for admitting to it, man."

Eddie nods, then looks away, towards the door. "Do you- should I leave? Do you even want me hear?"

Did he? "Yeah, I want you here. I kinda want Robin, too. I shouldn't have kicked everyone out like that."

"No dude, that was fair. But, uh, I can go chase down Nancy's car and see if Robin will return with me."

Steve does laugh, then, "no. We're so codependent as it is. I just... Robin's been here when I've called my mom. She's here all the time. I don't understand how she just... never picked up on it."

"You always call from the kitchen phone, or do you make it a private conversation? 'Cause Buckley and you are stupidly codependent, but if something's meant to be private, I doubt she's going to be eavesdropping on you."

That's true. And Steve knows he's being irrational. He never said anything, he knows he never even talks about his parents, that they're so rarely even in Hawkins these days, it isn't a farfetched idea to assume it's because he doesn't love them, or they don't' love him. That doesn't stop the hurt he feels for his parents. And a little for himself because, yeah, he never said anything, but also, they never asked.

They see their parents every day, have left their parents in the dark about the truth for reasons Steve doesn't agree with, but he'll never argue that choice with them, never assume they have a bad relationships with their parents for it.

"I had to tell my parents," Steve says, because he and Eddie are just standing in his kitchen in silence and he's thinking these things anyway. Might as well think out loud, "when Billy punched me unconscious and I woke up in my own damn car being driven by Max I just- what if I hadn't made it home to them? What if Billy had hit me one too many times, had beaten me to death? My mom was pacing the living room with worry when I did finally get home. They were supposed to already be on a plane to I don't even know where, but she was so worried about me that she stayed. She didn't even know about the Upside Down. Didn't know how close she'd come to losing me."

Eddie doesn't say anything, but he moves closer, to lean against the kitchen island, across from Steve.

"She was so fucking terrified when she saw me. Wanted to know who did it, what happened, where I'd been- she's never had to patch up anyone after getting a beating, so she tried to usher me back outside, to the car, a hospital I guess, but the thought of leaving the house was so overwhelming. After everything that just happened? I wanted to be home.

"I think she caught on to that. Instead, she pulled me into the bathroom and did her best to clean me up. I tried my hardest to hold it together but she- my mom just took my face in her hands, so gently, afraid to hurt me more," Steve mimics the motion, holding his hands out in front of him like he's cupping a face, "and just said you can tell me what happened, honey. No matter what it is. I love you so much. and I just- I broke down." Steve stops, sucking in a deep breath because just the memory of that night brings back the emotions. His mother's fear for his life. Her love for him.

"I told her everything. Just started talking and couldn't stop. And when I was done, a crying mess on the bathroom floor, she just... just sunk down beside me and held me as I cried. And the craziest part of all, she believed me. The next morning, when I thought for sure she was going to ask what kinda drugs I took to come up with that story, instead, she asked me if she could call Hopper. Wanted to talk to another adult about it," Steve swipes at his eyes, getting misty at the memories before continuing, "the only reason they aren't here right now is because I basically begged them to leave. To go grow their company, I'd said. I'd be here, and I promised to call every night, so they know I'm safe."

"Is that why you've never redecorated?" Eddie asks, out of left field, "'cause having their things around reminds you of them?"

Steve shrugs because he's not sure. "They told me I could change whatever. Make this house your own home, Steve my dad had said but, it's always felt like home, y'know?"

Eddie nods. "Not even a little tempted to change the wallpaper in your room? 'Cause it's pretty fuckin' atrocious man."

That makes Steve bark out a laugh, "ok, yeah, that's just me being lazy."

"Well, if you ever want help removing that wallpaper, count me in. The sooner, the better. How you can stand to look at it, and with those matching curtains, yikes," Eddie is grinning at him and Steve sees what he's doing. Distracting him from the heavy topic. Steve appreciates it. "I won't be caught dead in there until you change it."

"Oh? Hoping to be in my room sometime soon, Eddie?" Steve asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, I did kinda just learn that my crush has a crush on me, so maybe I was hoping," Eddie gives a shrug, aiming to sound indifferent and aloof, Steve thinks, but he can see the grin Eddie's trying to fight from forming on his face, and the way his hand has gone to his hair, pulling some strands to hide that grin behind.

Something sweet and happy spreads through Steve's entire body. Steve opens his mouth to say something, he's not sure, but what comes out instead is a big yawn.

"Alright, bedtime for you I think," Eddie says.

Steve nods, because he is tired. The rollercoaster of emotions and events have worn him down. "You wanna stay over and watch terrible movies until we fall asleep?"

Eddie looks delighted to have been asked.

Today was a shitshow, and Steve knows he'll need to reach out to everyone and talk. Individually, because he's not sure he can handle everyone all at once again. But he needs them to know he was just angry and doesn't hate them all or something.

Tomorrow's got promise, though, so that's good enough.

[danwhobrowses]

I have to say when it comes for episode 107 I'm on the camp of this feeling wrong. Like, two gods' plan is to just let Ludinus just have his way? And just assume that the vessel won't get them? The Wildmother showed Orym the time Predathos came to town, it took out two of them in a blink and the Titans did the heavy lifting, it chased them from Tengar to Exandria without concept of navigation so it's foolish to think they won't do the same this time around. Running forever isn't a life even the infinite should be pursuing. Corellon is cheeky and flirty but it's a mask for being deflective and honestly a little cowardly. What you're asking and trying to persuade with gifts requires the Hells to entertain sacrificing one of their own, which they shouldn't (and I'm hopeful they won't, because that'd be to me at least be a character betrayal since they have always prioritized each other over the gods) consider doing even for any kind of promise, and treating it like it's a necessity, as if leaving like you've decided you want to do now is your 'sacrifice'? Even if being a vessel and still being of sound mind was a viable option with proof that it can work that way, there are too many unknown factors that it seems not even the gods have answers for, so it should all trail back to the fact that this is STILL not a risk worth taking and Ludinus should not be having his way.

I guess part of this feeling comes down to the fact that this was not what I was hoping to get out of the episode; I'm always open to being surprised (because I often am) but it has to be in a good way, this was not a good way. But we'll have to see where it goes, this is a proposal of two gods against a majority yet to say their piece and could still be heard out, I still trust Matt's vision and Abu DM's like smooth butter, but the god debate admittedly continues to wear on me - we were already in a state where we were open to talk but now they're conspiring against one another too? Can we not just focus on Plan A: Unite to Stop Ludinus from releasing Predathos? Evoroa literally said Ludinus' plan is to divide why are we sowing more division? Couldn't just kill Zathuda and take his dragon for Fearne...this should've been Bell's Hells' big win to make up for Otohan but now for me at least it feels a little sour.

[cupophrogs]

Hey DD. How have you been. You’ve been quiet.

“Thankfully, most of the vending machines are intact and full, so we won’t be starving while Cherub’s leg heals. Thing has caught him trying to sneak out far too many times.”

[boarloved-art]

i like the car movies a lot.......

[buggiebite]

Long Day at School

Daddy! Peeta makes my heart melt. Figured everyone needed some of him to withstand the winter.

[choccy-milky]

Their kids are so cute omg i'm gonna dir of adorableness

lewis: then die LMFAOO NO BUT FRR THANK UU IM GLAD U THINK SO🥹🥹💖💖💖all the love for them (esp lewis) gave me the idea to draw him deflecting all the attention so ty for giving me the excuse to post it....we luv our aloof distant boi🥰

its funny bc i was JUST talking about this recently, but i dont like pet names at all BAHAH, hence why seb and clora dont call each other anything, not even nicknames.... seb calls her the light/princess/a bird sometimes as playful and teasing jokes, but doesnt actually address her like that. and clora always calls sebastian by his full name as well, bc i was basing her dialogue/my writing off the game dialogue...bc for as close as anne and ominis are to seb, both of THEM call him sebastian in full, so maybe it was a victorian thing that nicknames werent really common? plus clora's so proper that it just feels like its in her personality to always call seb "sebastian"... i feel like if she ever DID call him "seb" he'd do a double take and be like ...HUH? who are you???......are you polyjuiced? LMAO. i do imagine seb calling clora "love" when they get older tho (not in hogwarts) bc i like how simple it is, and imagining him saying stuff like 'careful, love' makes me🫠🫠🫠🫠

aw TYY💖💖 honestly i didnt give the victorian setting TOO much thought, other than making clora more modest/not used to wearing trousers etc. like the actual victorian courting process was that youd ALWAYS be chaperoned by at least 1 other person and you wouldnt be able to kiss or anything, so the fact that our mcs are in a co-ed school with free reign already ruins that, so i wouldnt worry too much about it. a lot of it you can just wave off with the excuse that wizard society is more advanced than muggle society, which is true anyway LOL. i just kept the parts that i thought were fun/made it feel victorian ENOUGH but got rid of the stuff that was too annoying (one big example being the amount of clothing they wear....i said it in the notes for one of my chapters, but i wasnt about to make seb go through like 5 different layers just to touch cloras titty LMFAO) and no i didnt have 1 specific website i used, id just google "blank in victorian times" and look through all the articles and resources i could on that subject, and take little bits of it. SO YEA i wouldnt worry about it too much, just take what you want if you think it could enrich your story, and leave stuff out if its annoying to deal with BHAHA. and GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR WRITING!!💖💖

BAHAHA yeah sebs bark was defs bigger than his bite when it came to actually having kids/getting clora pregnant LOL. he defs loves the pregnancy part, but i feel like seeing her go through the actual labour was super hard on him/made him feel guilty bc he hates to see her in pain, let alone bc of HIM. not to mention that i imagine he would still work even once they have kids, so to leave clora with like 6 kids by herself isnt something he would have wanted to do LOL. once both lewis and celeste are in hogwarts tho i actually imagine seb and clora still doing curse breaking as well (albeit less dangerous jobs/not as far away) BUT YES having a third kid that looks like seb and is sassy like anne would be SO CUTEEE...a happy accident is a good idea too, tho i kinda like the idea of it being cloras idea.....like, she gets baby fever again now that the kids are kinda growing up and sebs like no i dont wanna put u through that again... but obvs seb wouldnt be able to resist if clora was begging seb to put a baby in her LMFAOOO its already as good as done at that point😇😇 AND THANK YOU, and im glad you liked it!!!🥹💖💖💖

@the-kcm-muggleborn AWWW ur right thats so pretty.....ty for showing me!!🥹and im glad it make you think of clora...SHE WOULD APPROVE OF THESE STUDIES👌⭐🌙

[stiffyck]

Can we talk about how Karen definitely has some sort of PTSD because you can't just wake up one day with a knife and bloody hands and a dead coworker on your carpet one and then be fine. You don't get arrested and then almost strangled to death while in custody and be fine. You don't get kidnapped and threatened and then kill someone in self defense and be fine.

Oh my god can we PLEASE talk about Karen and her trauma oh my GOD.

[mcytegg]

i wanna post my yaps abt how the stickler-empire alliance is upheld by hopperclock and dualities friendships alone simply bc the empire only recognizes the sticklers as allies bc of minute and mapiccs individual alliances w jumper and ro—

like even that is tenuous at best bc mapicc doesnt care much for rek or jumper at all to the point that i think that theres most definitely a world where he kills them for a heart or smt if anything if he was caught while crashing tf out

while minute seems to mainly trust and want to work w jumper when given the chance while kind of seeing rek and ro be allies by proxy of them being her teammates. like even w ro offering to take pentars interest in him to help kill mane, minute still sees it as him helping mapicc SPECIFICALLY and not as him helping the empire as a whole (which is most likely true, in his defense!)

but like i cant articulate all of my thoughts and opinions in a satisfying way to MYSELF bc i have much to say and a few examples to help explain what i mean but the yap braincell isnt yap braincelling so all i can do is post this which is like...basically my yaps but on sale. discounted. not at full value.

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 3:

There is a universe, somehow, where Silco saves Vi.

It's... actually not all that uncommon, despite the circumstances.

It's a known fact they dislike each other: Vi's too much like Vander and she takes pride in that. That pride leaves a bitter taste in Silco's mouth.

They fight, often. Well... Vi fights, it's what she's best at. Silco listens quietly and tears her little arguments apart like wings from a butterfly. She curses his name and trashes his office every time one of his endeavors gets people killed. It happens more often than not - the price of freedom is always paid in blood.

Every death toll brings her to his office like a bringer of justice misled by righteousness. But he let hers storm in regardless. Sevika's learned to let her.

Every time, he sits and watches. Calmly. He watches her ruin months of careful notation or scorn a job well done. When necessary, he can chase her out with a few words. Usually, it's a reminder of her temper, her age, or Vander.

She's not Vander; it seems he's the only one willing to make her remember that. She hates him for it. For the death and the suffering and the fact that neither of them can fill the cast iron gloves hanging above the bar. Not really.

He isn't Vander either. He never pretended to be. He has no interest in burying his head in the sand. There's a cost to that... Vi know it.

She also knows that when the chips are down and the guns are aimed, when she's collapsed in an alleyway from a broken rib, and when it feels like it's just her with the Last Drop to her back... Silco's there. He'd do many things, but he'd never abandon her.

He drags her home and leaves Mylo to patch her up. He bails them out of idiotic schemes Vi got the five into. He hides enforcer bodies in the river (he never minds doing that). He pays someone off or makes someone disappear.

She still hates him, probably.

He... can't return the sentiment. She's irritating, in all those familiar ways Vander was, but it's different. He'd looked up to Vander, once. Much like Powder does to Vi - much like they all look up to Vi. But, she is not her Father. She is a child trying to fill shoes too big for her. From such a perspective, her irritating qualities are more... palatable.

She bartends, clenching her jaw and playing diplomat with the remnants of Vander's faction. She's a child, and the underworld knows it. Her hands are clumsier as they clean the glasses, unsure of how to be gentle when the rage burns.

The first time she asks Silco for anything is after she breaks the last of Vander's shot glasses. It's one of the only times her eyes mist in his presence. Nice glass is hard to come by in the undercity, and her going to the surface was out of the question... not after last time.

Silco has Sevika deliver the shipment, and neither of them mentions it again. Silco's shots are always served in a new glass, though. It's the closest to a thank you he can bear.

She's Vander's child. They all are. A step too far and the four (five, though Ekko's much better at staying out of trouble than his irritating late-guardian) gain a new title. Silco does not consider himself an emotional man, not anymore. But the first time an opposing crime lord tries to get to him through the children - Mylo, specifically - he finds himself... inspired.

Sevika finds Mylo in their enemy's basement. It's Silco who takes him home, a hand on the boy's trembling shoulder. They walk, tall - at least Silco does, something odd raging in his gut like a tidal wave.

It's a statement for him to walk Mylo home and he knows it. They're stared at - it's probably the first time he's ever done anything visible like this with any of Vander's kids. He doesn't regret it. Mylo doesn't either.

They root out the rot and leave a new scar in Zaun, Sevika is efficient and brutal when the time demands it. She aligns with Silco in that manner. He's never liked these inter-faction fights, but sometimes messages must be sent. Messages signed eloquently in blood are more memorable, and it must be memorable. Zaun's streets are too used to violence - if you want to send a message you must be... purposeful.

Mess with Vander's children and you will be meeting Zaun's ghosts.

It's the first collection of murders Vi doesn't condemn him for. Mylo's behind the bar with her, ranting about shitty air ventilation, nervous, bruised hands calming themselves as they dust glasses. Vi's quiet as Silco sits, not a word spared. She pours him a shot in a cleanly cut shot glass: it almost tastes sweeter.

They are Silco's wards. Vander's children, but under Silco's gaze. He doesn't want it to go any further, and the city would do well not to test it. Piltover too.

The marshall learns quickly enough that the streets play by new rules now. The Lanes are the safest place in Zaun for its children - they're nothing but a death sentence for enforcers.

Vi's... useful, in that regard. The only thing she seems to hate more than Silco is the people who got to Vander before he did. Another rare thing they both agree on. It's why he has no qualms about burying her ghosts when her rage is too strong and her fists too unforgiving.

So, yes, Silco has saved her before. This is different. It's not a glorious or proud moment... it's... necessary, as all things are in his life.

It starts when he slips by the Last Drop - he tries to do it fairly regularly. Not for the children, but for the statement. He's welcome here now. The streets know it. He haunts his old life, a stronger, fiercer phantom than any of his old demons.

It's pride, and he knows it. He strides in and smiles through the glares, Vi's included. She still pours him a glass no matter what fight they're having. She loves Powder too much to chase him away. That power is the halfway point between intoxication and sobriety, just as the shot of Vander's whiskey is.

He's late for his visit this time. Very late. More likely than not Vi's gone to bed and won't be up until late noon. He'll pour himself a drink and be done with it. It's not for the children - it's for himself. It always is.

There are no regulars to grumble at his arrival, just a drunk passed out in the alleyway next to the bar. Vi is still learning the art of cutting people off - sometimes he thinks she keeps the nastier ones drinking to teach them a lesson. Drags them home so they owe her a favor - so they remember they were at her mercy, once.

She's like Vander, but she's not all Vander.

Or maybe she is... Silco's throat is tight and his eye is beginning to throb from the long day. He reaches the door and stops.

It's left open.

Paranoia is an old friend. It keeps two knives on him, always in arm's reach. Danger is the best friend of Zaun's children, and it's taught him well. There's a gun at his belt too - ready. Always ready.

Vi does not keep the door open. It lets a draft in, and the stench of the streets. She's particular about such things.

Silco pushes the door open and takes a long breath. It's a familiar sight, not to the bar, but to Silco: there was a scuffle, of some sort. There's blood on the bartop and a broken bottle on the floor. Stools are tossed aside, and the jukebox is donning a new crack - it was a long fight, then. It seems the dancers danced their vicious waltz all through the bar.

Silco steps into the bar, still lit, but empty. There's... something climbing up his throat as his mind churns out the most likely probabilities. It tastes like river water.

Vi's a fighter, like her Father. The streets know it. They call her the 'little hound'.

Silco has no reason to correct them.

He crouches down to study a skid mark on the floor, right next to a small pool of blood. Someone's been punched, hard. Silco moves faster, passing the ghost of a bar and delving into its hold - the heart of this haven Vander built.

The door to the children's rooms is locked. That means one of two things. Either there's a nasty sight beyond for Silco to find, or Vi did what she does best.

He knocks: a rhythmic game that he knows one of the five will get. It's one of Powder's many games, tapping on his office door before barging in. Or his closet. Or his desk. Wherever her new hiding spot was. She and Ekko found some sort of amusement in startling him. Silco may loathe to admit it, but the pattern made their impromptu visits nicer. The anxiety leaves when the assassin in the belfry turns out to be the two youngest giggling at their endeavors.

Silco uses Powder's knock. He's met with silence.

There's a churning in his gut because he knows... he knows the costs of affections.

He's made enemies. That's condemnation enough. But Vander's made enemies too. Vander's children are still Vander's children - and the Hound's death doesn't satiate old blood feuds. And if it's revenge against Silco? He's not as clandestine in his affections as he wants to be...

Sevika tells him that much.

So he curses under his breath and slowly places his forehead on the door as he prepares himself.

If he opens this door... If those kids are dead... If Silco kicks this door down and finds bodies, he's going to make someone burn. He's going to carve this little haven apart in a baptism of blood.

A perfectly reasonable reaction. Justified, even. Not even Vander would disagree. It doesn't settle the crashing wave of something other than anger that's ripping him apart at the thought.

There's a scrambling on the other side and Silco releases a long breath he forgot he was holding.

There's a familiar hiss: "Powder - Powder no -"

Claggor's alive at least... and so is -

Powder opens the door taking a large gasp as their eyes meet. She runs to Silco and grabs him in a hug as if he's a lifeline and not an anchor pulling her into polluted river water.

It's not her usual. She'll poke at him or snatch something out of his pockets, but she's never been much of a hugger.

Silco isn't either.

He lets her stay, for now and places a hand on her head. She's warm... breathing and warm. He uses his other hand to push the door further. It reveals a more desperate scene. Claggor's holding a bloodied rag to his head. Mylo's nursing a broken nose from where he lays on the couch.

So it wasn't a long scuffle - it was multiple fights.

"What happened?" Silco only ever demands. Something Mylo hates - can't ask nicely, can you?

"Was one of those gangs Vi chased out a few weeks back," Claggor's always the voice of reason and honesty. Now he's donning a black eye and bruised knuckles. He has Vander's build, but lacks a stomach for fighting. He can do it - and do it well, but not like Vi...

He lacks her conviction. Speak of...

Damn girl. She's missing from their usual nest. Ekko too, but that's at least usual.

"Where is Vi?" Silco keeps his voice level, or he thinks he does. Powder pulls away and wipes her eyes, a familiar guilt dancing over her unblemished face.

"She went after them," Mylo answers, nasally, as he holds his head back. "Told us to hold up here till she got back."

"Alone?" Silco's not surprised but he is... angry.

Not at Vi. She's a fool; always has been. Like someone else he knew. She's doing what she'll always do.

Powder's near inconsolable, as she usually is when it comes to such things: "She told us to stay - I didn't want to but she made us promise and - and we couldn't find Ekko so we don't know where he went. I - I wanted to get you -"

"It's alright, how long ago did this happen?" Silco crouches down to meet Powder's gaze.

"I dunno, ten minutes," Mylo answers from afar. "You just missed it -"

"Which gang?" Silco's impatience is eating at him.

No one has an answer. Powder stares at the floor with tears in her eyes.

"Stay here," he orders in the face of silence. "Wait for me."

"You're gonna get her, right?" Powder pleads as he stands. "I can help!"

It's always about helping, with her. Always about being useful and loved. It's painfully easy to manipulate.

"Protect your brothers," Silco instructs carefully, softly. He looks around the room and eyes familiar explosive devices at her bedside. "If they come back to finish the job, use your tools. Make them regret what they've done."

"We don't need her-" Mylo begins to object before Claggor slaps his shoulder.

Powder doesn't buy his order, but it's enough. She bites her lip and nods. Silco spares her a warmer glance before he departs. The door closes behind him and it seems Claggor and Mylo immediately begin to argue: typical.

Silco's a bit too busy seething to do much else. He gives the bar another survey, trying to decipher what Vander's little prodigy got herself into.

It could be a little collection of street menaces. Faux-tough folks who like to poke and prod at any establishment they can, except of course the actual bastards of Piltover. Silco hated such short-sightedness. That energy would be better aimed at those gold-plated brutes that police the streets they spit on.

There's no chance of beating Piltover if the streets are too busy going at each other's throats. Vi had kicked out a few folks, and broken a few teeth, but retaliation had always been out of the question. She'd been spared from the worst of Zaun's cannibalistic tendencies her whole life.

Though she may hate it, Vi was the closest Zaun would ever get to royalty. The daughter of Vander, protected by Silco's knife edge. So either these bastards were stupid or they knew exactly what they were doing.

And if they were the latter, there was a large chance Vi wasn't just gone. That's the cost of sending messages.

You get sent messages too... in filthy, bloody packages...

"Thought I might find you here," a voice breaks through his concentration as he finds a few discarded coins by a table. It's Sevika. He doesn't even bother looking over his shoulder, as he pockets the change.

"Never a dull moment," Silco curses, standing. "Vi's run off."

"I know," Sevika mutters with a familiar exasperation. "I tried to stop her."

"You saw her!?"

"Yeah, caught her chasing down some thugs. She had a few scores to settle." Sevika is far too casual about it as she saunters over to the bar and pours herself a drink.

"And if it was a trap?" Silco's' challenge sounds a bit more paranoid out loud than it did in his head.

"I recognized the poor bastards, they're stupid - harmless in the long run," Sevika shrugs. "They take folks by surprise. Though they're in for a nasty one now."

Silco sighs, heavily, pinching his nose as a headache tries to wrestle into his priorities: "Where did she go?"

"Up towards the fishmonger's, at the pace she was at, she's probably caught up by now. She'll be back. They won't."

Silco doesn't say anything to that. He can't. So he leaves.

"Keep watch," he orders as he goes, because orders are simple, kinder things.

The streets are dark and damp, as always, but they're colder now. It's a bad idea to walk alone - especially given who he is. Not that he hasn't proven time and time again that the cost of messing with him is fatal, but his paranoia reminds him too easily how quickly a knife can come for your back. That being said.. these were Vander's streets and they are his now. Despite the animosity there, the old resistance keeps a watchful eye out on his back. He doesn't trust it, but he does understand it.

You take care of those kids now, or so the old Yordle from the brothel had ordered. Do that, and I won't mind you.

He still walks quickly and grapples with old ghosts. Vi's growing into something - something Vander would be keen on stopping. Something Vander had always been afraid of becoming.

It's a stupid thing, really. Silco's breathing in Zaun's poisoned air and lamenting on all the things that dead fool may have been right about.

Vi's useful as a little hound, but Silco's never gotten good at leashing her. Vander never managed it either. All of those kids were annoyingly stubborn and brilliant and mold them as Silco may, some things don't change. Not the river water of Zaun or the blood on the bridge - not the kids raised in her wake.

For the first time, Silco considers that maybe he's not the only one who drowned on these streets. It's no coincidence the thought comes as he passes the corner Vander died on.

He pushes it aside, quickly. He has something more important to deal with.

He finds her stumbling back. She's a mess. Broken nose, a black eye, and her knuckles are covered in blood. She is covered in blood. She limps along, guarding her side, pausing only when she sees him.

"Oh fuck me," she scorns and Silco has to chuckle at that.

"Hello Violet," he greets with a sarcastic glance. "You look well."

"Fuck off, Silco. What are you doing here?" half of the anger in her voice is from pain. The other half is her earnest loathing of him.

He can answer her honestly, though: "Looking for you."

"Well, you found me." She presses onward, passing him with a glare. He's content to follow.

They walk in silence for a while, Vi spitting out a glob of blood after a minute and cursing a colorful array for her wounds.

"Did you find them?" Silco inquires, once it's clear she intends to ignore him the entire time.

"Course," she spits.

"And, you walked away."

"I won. They're not coming back."

"Good," Silco supposes. The praise doesn't land kindly on her shoulders, but it's earnest.

"If you're gonna lecture me on how stupid going off alone was -"

"I have no such intention."

"I didn't kill them, either."

"I wouldn't care much if you did."

Vi sneers at that and presses onward.

"Call for a doctor, when you get back," Silco orders, gently as he can.

She glares at him - a clear refusal. It's not a bad idea, and she knows it, but because Silco said it, her little spiteful side would rather bleed out on the street.

That's... not Vander. It may be Felicia in her...

"Were you stabbed?" Silco suddenly catches a glimpse at the side she's guarding.

"No."

"So all the blood isn't yours?"

"Can you just fuck off?"

"Violet. Have you been stabbed?"

She whirls around, probably to hiss another insult at him, but she stumbles instead. Embarrassingly enough for both of them, Silco moves to catch her. She grabs a light post in place of his hands, and heaves out a heavier breath.

Silco watches, rolling his eyes at the theatrics. He pockets his hands as if they didn't almost betray him.

"It would kill you to direct your stubbornness somewhere beneficial, wouldn't it?" He jabs, in a whisper.

"I didn't fucking ask for your help!" She snaps back, pulling herself back up and pressing a bloodied hand firmer into her side.

"No. You didn't," Silco mutters, and he's quick to snatch her wrist, stained by her own crimson. He isn't as strong as he once was, but with surprise on his side, he can yank her hand away long enough to see the wound beneath it.

Oh, look at that. She has been stabbed. Who would've guessed?

She rips out of his hold and he lets her. It was a more performative act anyway - she'll glare at him either way. She leans away from him with a snarl of: "Fucking bastard." Like a cornered dog.

Little hound indeed.

"Sit down," he orders.

"No -"

"Violet. Sit. Down."

It doesn't usually work on her. The tone was more useful with Claggor - but she's bleeding out. Seems that some of the stubbornness is going with it.

She sags to the cobblestone with a grimace as she guards her side, hissing through clenched teeth as she lands heavily. Silco crouches down in front of her, pulling out familiar tools from a small pouch he always keeps handy.

Again, paranoia and preparation were identical twins, you could only tell them apart in practice. He was well-versed in both. He's had to stitch himself up too many times...

Well, he'd had to stitch up Vander too many times...

"Oh, fuck this: Get your damn doctor," Vi spits as she spies the small vial of astringent.

And Silco hums to match her scathing tone: "I would. But you've decided to give us a time crunch."

"I - "

"Move your hand."

"No!"

"Violet, I am not going to tell your siblings that you bled out in front of me."

It's the only way to get her to do anything. A familiar arm to twist when it's necessary. She knows it too, which is why her glare burns darker than Zaun's night. She still obeys, even lifting up her shirt a few precious inches to show him the gore beneath. That's enough - it's more than he dares ask from her.

The streets of Zaun are familiar with questionable medical practices, and Silco's familiar with impromptu triage. They'll need better stitches and a thorough cleaning once he's done, but it would stop her from bleeding, for now.

She hisses through her teeth when he pours the cleaner over it.

"Fucker -"

"You're welcome," he interrupts curtly. "And you're lucky."

She says nothing as she clenches her teeth and covers her eyes, breaths coming fast and heavy.

"If this had gone any deeper, or moved any higher, we'd be in a different predicament," Silco continues.

"Well, it'd fix one of your problems," Vi spits between heavy breaths as Silco threads the needle.

He chuckles at that one: "Perhaps."

Vi bites her already bloodied knuckles to keep from screaming as Silco begins his work. Painkillers would be a useful thing to keep handy, but Silco prepares for needs, not comforts.

This may... change that.

The closeness is one of necessity, and it's obviously no comfort to the girl. Silco works quickly. It's messy, but again, he intends to get an actual doctor as soon as the bleeding is stemmed. You can't exactly apply a tourniquet to a torso - and you shouldn't make a habit of stitching up your enemies.

Not that Vi was an enemy... not to him, at least. Not yet.

"Of course, if you did die," he finds himself musing: "I dare say Claggor will end up breaking even more glasses than you did."

She doesn't respond but there is a breath - quick... it may even be a laugh.

"Unless Mylo takes over bartending. In which case I should hike up our liquor order. Something tells me he'll get too eager to test the merchandise."

"Oh fuck off." There she is.

"We'll have to wait until Powder grows a bit taller so she can see over the bare - granted she doesn't kill me first for letting you die."

He cuts off the thin wire now holding the wound together. It snaps quickly and he ties it - tight. Vi's hand suddenly clamps onto his arm and he's thrusted back years by the force in that grip. He tries to hide it and likely does seeing how out of it the girl is. She's leaning forward, breathing heavily. His breaths, in conjecture: feather-light. Too quick.

"She - she wouldn't," the girl manages.

It's Silco who can't respond this time, staring at the white-knuckled grip on his arm. Well, they would be white knuckles if said knuckles weren't split and covered in grime. Familiar... too familiar.

Vi continues though, the pain spilling from her eyes despite the chuckle in her throat: "She likes you too much - looks up to you."

"A questionable choice," Silco finally forces out of his dry throat, carefully dissecting Vi's grip from his wrist.

"Yeah," she spits, leaning further forward, at least until Silco catches her shoulder.

"You'll split the stitching. You still need a doctor."

"Fuck."

Understandable. Silco helps her stand and, as if to scream how much she's truly out of it, she doesn't protest in the slightest. They make their way through the streets, slowly. The Last Drop is the closest safe spot, though the faster they find a doctor the better.

They get halfway there when Vi starts breathing just a little too heavy for his taste. She's shaking and when she starts leaning on him he caves in. They stop and he pushes her to a wall.

Another order: "Catch your breath."

She obeys. That's a problem. Vi does not obey. She seethes and objects and ruminates even when he's right. They're running out of time. He can't leave her here but he can't wait either.

Choices, choices, choices...

"I shouldn't have gone alone," Vi recites hatefully as she slides down to the brick wall, wrapping both arms around her stomach. "I know, it was fucking stupid."

"Well, at least you recognize it," Silco scathes, holding the bridge of his nose again as the ache behind his eye worsens. Brilliant. Who does he know around here? Anyone trustworthy?

"They needed to get the shit kicked out them," she rues, weakly.

"And did you get stabbed before or after you exacted your justice?"

"After. Fucker pulled a knife once it was a one-on-one."

"Predictable," Silco scolds. She glares, good - at least something familiar is still present.

"Maybe for you."

"Don't pretend Mylo doesn't play dirty. You know to expect it." Silco hardly notices he's begun to pace. There's blood dripping on the cobblestone, trickling from Vi's fingers. They need to move. Vi's breaths are still heavy.

The streets smell like river water. Silco can hardly breathe.

"I broke his face."

And that, Silco can laugh at: "I don't doubt it. Now get up. We need to go."

She closes her eyes at the order - a bit too long for his taste. He couches down and grabs her shoulder - fiercely. "Violet."

"I'm moving," she grumbles, taking his hand and weakly standing once more. Immediately, she collapses and Silco barely catches her, lowering her to the floor gently as he can as it all trickles out of him in hollow realization like the crimson from her side.

He sits her up against the wall and, heavily, takes a seat beside her. He can't carry her back. He's not that strong - maybe never was. And she's bigger now. He needs to go - get someone who can help.

He can not leave her. Not like this. Not like this.

He's lied millions of times, he'll lie a million times more before his life is through, but he made a promise, to a dead man, but a promise nonetheless. He cannot leave her to die another one of Zaun's orphans. Her last cradle in the cobblestones. He will not leave her to die alone.

"Fuck." It's weaker now, wet. She's crying.

He can't stomach it.

"We need to move," he tries to find a sternness to press onward. It ends up sounding desperate. His hand is over hers, applying pressure she doesn't have the strength to.

"I shouldn't have gone alone," she repeats. The anger's gone... it's fermented into regret.

"You should have called me," he hates the rage that is slipping through his teeth like the blood between his fingers. "I would've handled this."

"They kicked Claggor," she breaths - like that's some sort of defense.

"You are dying."

There it is: in the air. No taking it back now. He knows it. She knows it. Zaun knows it.

"You are dying because of your own idiocy," he seethes regardless.

"Keep Powder away from your fucking war," is her answer - always the fucking martyr, so much like her second father, it's disgusting. "Mylo and Claggor... keep them away -"

No. No he will not -

"You want to keep them away? Do it yourself," he hisses as he pulls her up again. This time he has one hand under her shoulders and the other pressed against her side, firmly. Her blood is warm against his cold hands and he tries to ignore it: "Move."

"Silco -"

Not fucker. Or bastard. Or the many other colorful names she's deemed him worthy of.

"Move." That's his answer. It's his answer for the next few blocks. Then, there's a stirring from one of the rooftops and Silco almost breathes in relief to hear a familiar rhythm of taps, asking if the coast is clear.

Vi notices nothing, she's limp, and in a moment of weakness, he digs into her wound, inciting a gasp. She's still alive and she'll fucking stay that way.

"EKKO!" He calls and the boy is there, peeking over a roof's ledge. His eyes are wide and Silco doesn't help to soothe the fear there. "Get a doctor! Now!"

"Who?" the boy cries back, eyes locked on Vi.

"Anyone! Closest one you can find." Silco's done with plans currently. No one will try anything stupid with Sevika staring over their shoulder. Time's not on their side. On Violet's side.

Ekko's smart enough to not get himself kidnapped - probably. Tonight's just been full of all sorts of lovely surprises. Though if he has to chase another child down he can't promise he'll maintain his patience.

They press onwards. The streets are dead this early in the morning. It's nearly time for the early risers to stir. What fools do creep the streets vanish at the sight of Silco and his fiery eye.

Vi's a heavy weight on his side, her feet dragging more and more with every moment.

"I seem to recall one of Vander's teachings warning against this exact situation," he mutters.

The sound of her late Father stirs her just a bit - it's all he needs. Her eyes flicker over and he drags her onward.

"Something about being careful about the fights you pick - and the causes you die for," he scorns.

A familiar warning. One he'd almost died for. The hands around his neck are heavy, but still lighter than Vi's weight on his side.

She doesn't answer.

"How did it go?" Silco breathed rhetorically. "Every time you raise your fist, make sure you're ready to die for it?"

"Make sure... you're ready... for someone to die for it," Vi breathes and it's not relief, but it's something similar that fills Silco's flooded lungs.

"Ah, of course. He was always so worried about collateral," Silco feigns ignorance. "And murder."

"Yeah," Vi barks a weak laugh. "You... wouldn't... know..."

"I wouldn't," Silco agrees. "Everyone has something they'd die for. I happen to think certain causes are worth killing for. Vander did too, he liked to pretend he didn't."

Vi goes silent so Silco clears his throat: "Not this though."

She does huff at that.

"It will be embarrassing if you die from this," Silco mutters.

No answer. He begins to calculate the next way phrase that could stir her up when she breathes a weak laugh.

"He wouldn't have died from this."

"Neither will you," Silco states.

"He... wouldn't have been stupid."

Silco does roll his eyes at that: "He absolutely would have been."

"Should've... seen it... coming."

"Yes. But you'll learn."

"I was... angry."

"I know." Silco breathes. Because he does. He knows it better than anyone else. Better than Vander would've.

Like a blessing from Janna, there's a golden light spilling from down the street, and they turn towards the Last Drop. They aren't a step towards it before Sevika is at the door, throwing it open and running towards them.

"The trick about anger, Violet -" Silco breathes as they slow. He looks at her and finds a determination in those eyes - "It's all in knowing how to use it. That rage will either kill you... or keep you alive. It's time you decide how you'll use it."

Sevika is there and she picks Vi up like she weighs nothing. The doctor arrives a few minutes later, Ekko on his heels. Some kinder neighbor who lacks prowess but is willing to do it for free - to repay an old favor to Vander.

Good enough. He's too tired to play Zaun's usual games.

Powder's crying next to him. Mylo and Claggor fret the whole time. Ekko takes his place next to Powder and watches with a mixture of grief and horror. Sevika is strangely quiet.

But Vi? She refuses to fade. Refuses to pass out. She grips the chair beneath her and grinds her teeth on a twisted rag from Sevika as the doctor works. Her nails carve into the wood until splinters bloody her cuticles - and sometimes, she looks to Silco.

He doesn't know what she sees there, doesn't know what she's looking for. He just knows she's going to survive.

She knows it too.

She's not Vander, never was. It's not a bad thing.

But it changes everything.

[lynxgriffin]

We've seen Eldritch!Susie and Eldritch!Noelle, but is the world ready for Eldritch!Ralsei?

I mentioned this in text a little earlier back, but rather than being another huge horror beast, I think Ralsei would instead be a completely shadowy, cloaked figure of unknown intentions from the dark realm that teaches Kris the power of friendship grants them the forbidden knowledge to find and command the huge horror beasts!