#and also like. even if in the past he was better and the dark fountain and shit made him evils. that doesnt excuse him being shitty

[dooodle-bug]

thinking about lancer's shitty home life takes ten years off my life

[lyssasdrafts]

the alchemy — azriel x reader

description: your friend just broke up with her boyfriend, asher. when you visit his house to ask for her things back, and to give him a piece of your mind, you run into his much better younger brother, azriel.

includes: modern au, azriel’s older brother (oc), mentions of cheating (not with azriel or y/n)

notes: i wrote this for @starsand 🤭🤭 go get your man girl 💕

(i also made up a male character for azriel’s brother since i didn’t wanna make cassian or rhysand a cheater 💔)

you stared at the house in front of you. you were definitely in one of the richer neighborhoods judging by your commute there. the house was larger than your friend had even described, with a gate and fountain blocking your full view. as beautiful as it was to look at, you still dreaded going in.

your friend had recently broken up with her first boyfriend, asher. unfortunately, you were currently standing in front of his house, waiting to talk to him. your friend had forced you to go back for her to ask asher to return her things she’d left behind. you already anticipated the awkward conversation that would arise, and how asher probably was not going to agree with you easily.

you slowly walked up to the gates of the house, noticing the security camera they had flashing its red light at you, before ringing the doorbell. you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for someone to answer. you realized the possibility that nobody was home, and while it would be great to not see asher today, you really didn’t want to return.

you could hear the sound of another car parking next to the house, turning around to see a small black car next to yours. in the distance, you watch someone step out of the car and walk up to you.

you prepare yourself to face your friends ex-boyfriend, but instead find yourself being approached by a taller man. he had the same eyes as asher, but he was different, he was handsomer. the first thing you noticed about him was his broad shoulders, with a book bag slung across his chest. he had dark hair that nearly brushed against his eyes, his hazel eyes stared at you while he looked down to reach your height.

“can i help you?” he raised an eyebrow, and you began wondering if you had been to the wrong house. this was definetly not asher.

“is asher shadowsinger here?” you ask, trying not to embarrass yourself. the man in front of you lets out a deep laugh, one that you didn’t even know he was capable of with such a cold demeanor.

“don’t tell me you’re here to see that asshole,” the man chuckles, “he’s my older brother.”

“oh,” you say. your friend had mentioned her boyfriend had a younger brother, but you’d never expected him to look like he came out of one of your romance books.

“he’s not home right now, but i can let you inside and you can wait,” asher’s brother steps closer to you, and for a moment you can feel your heart beating faster. he quirks an eyebrow at you, as he reaches for the wall behind you. he uncovers the security panel, pressing in the numbers to the passcode.

“i just unlocked the door,” he steps away from you as the gates automatically moved apart for you. “and you can call me azriel.”

you nod your head, thanking him as you walk past their front entrance. he follows a little behind you, leading you to their living room with a sleek couch with a large tv screen. you can’t help but notice the line of trophies on the shelf above that say “azriel shadowsinger” instead of his brother’s name. you wonder what they could’ve been for. the room is an open space connected to a large family room with a large dining table set. quite frankly, you were grateful that azriel had led you in since you likely would’ve gotten lost in this house that was more of a mansion. you sit down on the couch after he offers, and a look of concern flashed across azriel’s face.

“what are you really here for? and how long were you standing out there alone?” azriel asks while he takes off his bag, and you can’t help but notice how his shirt accidentally lifts a bit.

“i’m here because my friend walked in on her boyfriend, asher, kissing another girl.” you fold your arms, clenching your teeth unknowingly when you began to think about it. “and don’t worry, i just got here when you found me.”

azriel’s gaze shifts back to you, making your heart race once again. you look up at him, waiting for a response. would he take his brothers side? was he just as bad?

“asher told me his girlfriend broke up with him but he never talked about why,” azriel looked down. “he’s fucking dead when i get him.”

you chuckle, putting your arms up, “i don’t like him either. my friend sent me here to get her stuff back.”

“i can find it for you, it’s probably in his room,” azriel explains. “just stay here, okay? i’ll get whatever you need.”

you can’t help but give azriel a soft smile. he was nothing like his brother from what you could tell. asher had treated your friend like an asshole, and when she caught him cheating on her, that was the final straw. you hadn’t expected azriel to go against his brother’s actions. and honestly, you would’ve never even expected someone related to asher to be this attractive and caring.

azriel comes back, your friend’s hoodie and necklace in his hands. “i assume this is isn’t asher’s.”

you nod, taking it from azriel’s hands. he seems flustered at the contact, his eyes looking away when you brush hands. he sits next to you on the couch, keeping a pillow’s distance between the both of you.

“can i ask you something?” azriel says. you nod your head with a “yes”. he turns to face you, his hazel eyes staring down at your lips. you blink at him as he reaches for your hand again.

“if you’re not here for asher, does that mean i can have you?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I had the worst Monday that could have ever existed. Onto Tuesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"I trust this should be amenable to your work," Mr. Laufeyson holds open the door along the east wall of his study. One you've never opened before though you're familiar with the space within. The library also opens into the hallway and keeps you busier than many of the other rooms. "When you should require it. I expect much of your work will keep you afoot."

You peer past him, his tall figure like a second shadow. You clutch your kit tight and nod. You didn't exactly bring the tools for this new role.

"I should have a blank ledger somewhere, oh and a pen of course," he advises, "given our new... arrangement, I would require a contact point."

You nod and tear your attention from the full shelves and luxurious velvet chaise. You won't get to enjoy those but they give the space a much more welcome feel than the rest of the house. You face Mr. Laufeyson as he keeps the door propped open with his foot. He slides out his phone as if it's a task. 

"Never to worry, I wouldn't bother you much so long as you do your work adequately," he assures, "but in case of... emergency."

"Oh, erm," you sputter and reach into your hoodie pocket, revealing the tiny flip phone.

"Hm, vintage," he muses, "as you would."

He holds his phone, gesturing to it with his other hand. You teethe your lip before you recall the digits of your number. Your plan doesn't include a lot of talk minutes but he doesn't promise much of that. He keys them into his screen.

"You'll have mine," he taps his thumb and your phone chimes. "In case."

"Thanks, uh, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Mmmm," he hums again. "Suppose you would need some sort of proper device, a computer of sorts." He clucks and checks his watch, dropping his arm with a huff, "I've an important event shortly, I'll try to venture by the electronics shop before I return.”

You nod and fold your phone, slipping it away as you peek back into the library. He inhales deeply, "suppose you should begin. The list is on the writing desk.”

You accept the command easily. You’re even thankful for it. It gives you a proper reason to find distance. You go to the desk and look over the typed list. You don’t sit, hesitating as you wonder if it would seem lazy, maybe even presumptuous.

“Let me fetch that ledger,” he says before letting the door drift closed.

You run your finger over the top line. ‘Create a schedule’. Hmmm. You look over the bullets that fill the paper. You can only assume he refers to all of that. It’s straightforward, you can handle a schedule. It’s everything that comes after that gives you doubt.

“And you’ll have to review what my wife, ex that is, left in shambles,” Mr. Laufeyson interrupts as he pushes through again. “Her little folder is here. She was always fond of order, even though she left me in much less. This is what’s left of her handiwork,” he approaches coolly and sets down a plain fawn coloured ledger, a fountain pen, and a white folder with golden flowers on it.

“Thanks,” you eke out as his hands linger on the edges.

You sense his gaze, discerning and weighty. He leans forward slightly and you nearly take a step across as he points to the list. You follow the line of his arm and his extended finger.

“Another point to add, ‘acquire work attire’,” he instructs and turns his hand over, flippant flicking his finger in a gesture to your plain hoodie and worn gray denim. “I trust my pay should afford that necessity easily, however should you require a write-off, I suppose it could be argued as a professional expense.”

“Sorry, Mr. Laufeyson,” you frown in embarrassment, “I didn’t…” You look down at yourself, wanting to hide behind your arms. 

“You wouldn’t think of it, just a maid,” he dismisses, “very well, I think you have more than enough to begin. I should be some hours.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you agree. He is correct, there is more than enough to keep you busy.

“I will review the schedule upon my return,” he affirms. “Should you require refreshment, you recall where to go.”

You nod and cautiously reach for the ledger, sliding it closer as he backs up. You slowly sit, hovering before you let yourself rest. He lingers by the door as you roll the pen aside and put the ledger and folder parallel. You open the former and line up the list inside the cover, resuming your perusal of the bullet points.

The door closes and you keep your attention to the paper. You don’t dare a glance up until you hear his muffled footfalls cross his study. You feel as if he’s waiting for you to make a mistake. You think you might be too.

🧹

A clunk sharply pierces the tenuous peace of the empty house. You hadn’t heard the door or his approach, not even right next door, not until the hefty thunk. You listen but keep your nose down. 

You’re just about done with the schedule. Two cleans throughout the week to spread the duties evenly. The main floor on Mondays, and the upper on Thursday. You’ll be able to fit in an unexpected tidying between your other to-dos.

You flutter through the pretty white and gold folder. The embossed suede speaks of a sophisticated owner. You wonder why she would ever abandon it, though you assume, a separation may not inspire sentiment.

You turn over another note. This one about the gazebo. A blurb on a repair. You’ll have too go out and check to see if it was actually done, there’s no confirmation of the job. You stop to admire her loopy writing, as elegant as the folder.

The door opens without pretense. You sit up and wiggle the pen between your index and thumb. Mr. Laufeyson as a flat white box in his hand, along with a smaller one on top. He does not near you, instead place his lot on the square table by the window.

“Here,” he orders shortly.

You rise and leave the pen in the centre of the ledger. You cross to him as he moves the smaller box aside and unfolds the two smaller flaps from the large one. You can’t help but watch curiously.

“This should suffice,” he shimmies out the cardboard insert, revealing a sleek silver laptop, “hmm?”

He shifts it towards you and lets you look it over. You put your hands behind you to keep from touching. You lean in just a little.

“It looks nice, Mr. Laufeyson. Thank you.”

“For your work, of course. These days, it is a requirement. And this,” he takes the smaller box and offers it up, “a proper work phone. It is more professional. Any calls on my behalf, you will make on this. That relic you have won’t do much.”

“Uh, yes, Mr. Laufeyson, that’s really thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful? Practical. Company property, of course,” he insists, “another point to add. Set these up. They should be functioning by the end of the day. You’ll need them to keep up with the rest of your tasks.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. I will put it on the list.”

“Mm,” he circles around you, striding to the writing desk before you can react. You follow at a few paces, not wanting to crowd him. He takes the pen and uncaps it. He adds the bullet himself. “There you are.”

“Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson,” you recite again.

He snaps the lid on the pen and his lips twitch, not quite curving, “I’ll review,” he snatches up the open ledger, your schedule open to see. You almost rush forward. You meant to rewrite it before you handed it over. It has scribbles all over it. You won’t argue.

“Go on,” he steps around the desk, waving to the side dismissively.

You return to the table and gather the laptop and phone, along with the stray box. You bring them back to the writing desk and stay standing as you free the laptop from the insert. You let your eyes edge along the top of your vision as Mr. Laufeyson sits on the chaise and browses the ledger.

You refocus and investigate the cord buried in the box as a collection of booklets fall out. You sort through them and find the one in English. You start on the front page, reading over the different buttons and features. The diagram is especially helpful. You’ve never had a computer before, not that it belongs to you.

You squint as you read the precautions. Your mind flits back and forth between your current task and everything beyond. You would go to the library sometimes and spend an hour on the PC, and in school you did all your work in the resource room. This is much fancier than any of the boxy computers you’d used before.

It says you should plug it in and charge to full before booting. You unravel the cord and search for an outlet against the wall. There’s one not far. You hook up the cord to the port on the side of the slender laptop then trail it to the wall. The little light on the side glows yellow.

Then you take the little box. A phone. The flip phone was second-hand but this is shiny and new. You’re like a kid at Christmas, not that you got much for the holiday, even when you were younger.

You slide out the small device. Your hand is unused to it. It’s not clunky like your phone. It feels easy to drop even if it’s bigger than the flip. You peel off the plastic film around the border and across the screen.

You take out the booklet and read it as closely as the first. Same thing; charge before use. You don’t want to mess up any of this. You plug it in above the computer and place it on the closed lid. You carefully sit in the chair, careful not to jostle the cords.

You peek up and find Mr. Laufeyson looking at you over the top of the ledger. His green eyes gleam and flick back down to the page. You hope he doesn’t see how clueless you are. This stuff that’s all so normal to everyone else is new to you. A job alone is a novelty still.

“You may ask it,” he says abruptly.

You wince and shrug. You don’t know what he means. His brows tweak in amusement.

“You’ve not asked about time off. I am unaware of your previous commitment, what days you had to yourself.”

You didn’t think of it but he does seem to think of everything. You twiddle your fingers on the desk. You would work as much as you need to. You still haven’t seen the final hospital bill.

“Mr. Laufeyson, I worked three shifts per week, but I was on probation,” you explain carefully, “I can work more than that.”

“How much is more?” He wonders, his thumb tapping the corner of the ledger.

You blink. You don’t know what’s appropriate. You don’t want to say too little and come off lazy, or say too much and seem ignorant. 

“Six?” You utter, “six days, Mr. Laufeyson?”

His thumb stills, “per week?”

You nod. His eyes narrow and his lips thin in consideration.

“Should do,” he accepts and his eyes fall back to the page.

You think you got the right answer. You look down at the bullet points. It seems like a lot written out but surely it can’t be. Besides, the more you think about it, the more exciting it is. This house is so beautiful and this list means you get to explore it.

You don’t sink too deep into the moment of optimism. Mr. Laufeyson stands, still intent on the ledger. He paces blindly around the library, a click of his tongue as he reviews your handwriting.

“There will be some nights,” he intones, “other occasions where I require you in the evening.”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you accept as you flutter the pages of the laptop instruction booklet.

“Mm,” he hums flatly, “I do think the cook liked you, didn’t she? Suppose we might retain that service for the time being.”

You nod and make a note in the corner of the list; simply, Corissa. He shuts the ledger and grips it tight. He walks around the table then turns back, coming back to you. He lays down the book on the desk.

“I won’t know until the day in question. You understand, this would be on-call. I’ve a busy life and so will you,” he girds, leaning on the book as he bends over the desk. “You will be doing more than watching little birds flapping around the garden.”

You nearly recoil as he plucks the memory out so precisely. That was careless of you. You should’ve kept your head down and just got to work. It’s a warning you’ll remember.

“I won’t, Mr. Laufeyson, I understand,” you assure.

“Not to say that you can’t,” he stands and pushes the bottom of his jacket back, hooking his thumbs in his pockets, “but only when there are no other pressing matters.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He sighs and tilts his head back, “you must resist distractions. You are prone to it. I’ve noticed.”

You chew your lip and accept the remonstrance. You’ll take it instead as advice. He is right, you do find yourself bewitched by this place at times.

“Like that man,” he says staunchly, “don’t think I forgot. I will warn you, he is my brother… regrettably. He is well above the staff and he knows it.”

You take the hint. It’s improper of you to stare. Even if he had touched you. Or maybe, you misinterpreted an accident.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Hear me when I tell you, he is not interested in the likes of you,” he sniffs, “with any luck, he won’t be much around for you to believe anything of the like.”

You nod and pick up the pen, nervously rolling it between your fingers. His reproach scalds your cheek. To think he assumes you would ever think of something like that. That you might encourage a stranger in that way.

He watches you for a moment before he spins away. He checks the time on his wrist as you reach for the ledger.

“Very well, I must be at my own work,” he declares, “as I trust you will be diligent in your own.”

[wholesome-sharks]

Odysea Aquarium, Scottsdale AZ

Mom took me and my sister to the Odysea last month for my birthday! Sorry I haven't posted sooner but HERE ARE THE PICS!

This window over the downstairs bathroom sink was officially voted coolest bathroom in the USA (the plaque said 2017, I think). Why? Because it views into the Voyager shark tank. Trevally, other fish, and FIVE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SHARKS swim past this window and will even go behind the bubble screen while people are washing their hands. I couldn't get a pic of the sandbar shark when it swam by the window bc it went by pretty quick. But this restroom is by the front entrance and it is the perfect appetizer to a gourmet experience.

Also, trevally are HUGE.

Here is the mascot species of the Odysea, a sand tiger/gray nurse/ragged tooth shark. The bubble fountain at the back of the photo hides the bathroom window.

The Sea Trek tank on the upper floor had mostly tropical fish, but it had a zebra shark and A BONNETTHEAD SHARK! SQUEEEEE!!!! Internally crying for joy!!!!

Brown-banded Bamboo Shark in the shark/ray touch aquarium. A couple of times while I was hanging out by this tank I saw it roll onto its side and scratch itself in the sand--I've seen that on video so I jumped whenever I saw it happen. The cownose rays in the touch tanks are absolutely spoiled and swim up to the surface for pets ASAP when they see you approach.

Benthic buddies: here's the brown-banded bamboo shark lying next to the white-spotted bamboo shark.

Magnificent zebra shark in the movie theater tank. The movie theater would play 10-minute videos and then move the screen back up between showings. I think this was probably my favorite tank. There was a second zebra shark (Stegostoma tigrinum) in this tank.

They also had LEOPARD SHARKS (Triakis semifasciata) !!!!!! again, my cup runneth over!

Epaulette sharks in the Great Barrier Reef tunnel. The one laying on the glass was a male and so he was flashing EVERYONE with his claspers (blurry pic--but maybe that's for the better). There was also an epaulette shark in the stingray touch tank.

Got to spend a few moments of shared eye contact with this epaulette shark💖

Back to the Voyager tank. Here is a sandbar shark and the head of a LEMON SHARK. There were at least two lemon sharks in the Voyager tank. It took me a moment to recognize them. The Voyager tanks are kind of dark, and ofc with no natural sunlight the lemon sharks don't get to show off their color properly. Maybe they should change the light fixtures.

Here's a sandbar shark again along with a view of the reef in the Voyager tank. Again, the trevally are ENORMOUS, bigger than the blacktip reef shark (either that, or BTRs are just small). I deliberately avoided taking too many photos and focused more on the experience, so these are just the highlights of the sharks. Also I've seen the giant Amazon rainforest fish before so no need to repeat.

Have some random aquarium denizens:

Aquarium review: They definitely put money and effort into making the aquarium a good home for the animals as well as engaging and educational for visitors. I was able to be up close and personal with the sharks, which was exactly what I wanted. I feel like the rotating Voyager exhibit is a little overrated--the cheesy Holiday-themed narration didn't help. Aquarium staff kept their distance but were helpful when needed. Starbucks on the second floor is nice. Super expensive but definitely worth it. 8 out of 10.

[tacticalkinky]

Spooky Sexy Halloween

Tags: cosplay, oral mention, femme!reader, cod mw2, ghost

A/N: hi guys im back! I wanna keep most of this one a surprise so if you read past this, buckle up! I hope it makes up for the absence! Also this is gonna be a little shorter because i’m having a bit of writers block.

You look out the car window. It’s not completely dark but it’s getting there, with a violet hued sky that has orange tones making the vibes of the atmosphere more…spooky. You adjust yourself in your passenger seat, grabbing your gas station fountain drink from the cupholder and taking a sip. Simon is driving you to a Halloween party that Chan is hosting. Chan being your lifelong bestie, of course.

You’re sat in a gorgeous red evening gown, sequins adorning the entire fabric. Although your ankles ache, you have gorgeous red pumps on and long purple gloves to complete the costume. The long, red hair on your shoulders frames your dramatic makeup making you none other than a classy, humanized Jessica Rabbit. You adjust your hair and fix your lipstick. Simon watches you do this and tries to hide a silent smirk. You however, are very observant.

“What are you smiling about over there?” You ask, your eyes staying fixed on your passenger side mirror as you drag the lipstick across your lips. Simon rolls his eyes. “You should know by now.” He teases. You raise an eyebrow at the response. “Oh yeah? Well then remind me because I must’ve forgot.” You respond. Simon clears his throat and lays his hand on your thigh while maneuvering the car. “I’m smiling because I have the most breathtaking, most gorgeous, most exciting woman I’ve ever been with sitting in my passenger seat of my car.” Simon dotes, his lips curled into a wider grin. You would normally whine an adoring sound, but you knew that grin better than he did. A moment of happy silence happens, broken by your next words.

“If we had just met, I’d probably believe you. But I don’t. What are you REALLY thinking about?”

Simon laughs really hard, causing you to laugh as well. You both giggle so hard your chests hurt, then keep laughing each time you look at each other until Simon speaks again. “Okay, you got me. I’m actually thinking about taking you out to eat later.” Simon finally admits, his hand creeping up your thigh. You were caught off guard by the apparent mention of food, so you immediately light up with excitement. “Oh! Where? There’s a new Chinese buffet I actually wanted to try if you-“ you excitedly ramble, until you feel a tight squeeze on that soft spot between your thigh and crotch. “O-ohhh…” you moan, gripping his wrist to desperately help yourself control your mini orgasm.

Simon glances at you and notices how hard it is for you to contain your composure when his hand is on that sweet spot, so he retracts his hand and puts both hands on the wheel. Like a responsible driver, obviously. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you out to that buffet too.” Simon adds. You bite down on your hand, trying to stifle some moans and hopefully tame the intense feelings you just had. You look down and notice your lipstick rubbed off on the back of your hand. You then glare at Simon playfully.

“You fucked up my makeup while barely touching me! God damn it!” You exclaim, hurriedly grabbing your lipstick again to fix it. Simon chuckles, then clicks his tongue as he sarcastically chides, “At least you’re not wearing a silly rabbit costume.”

[disfrutalakia]

Imagine q!Pac an q!Mike going back to the favelas in hopes of finding their family and their son, but instead seeing f!Cell standing at the middle of the favelas.

Or in which I couldn't sleep and wrote this so my brain could have peace.

(Tw Panic Attack, but they are very brief)

They were tired, not only physically but also mentally, specially mentally probably. So they simply refused to leave the murder arena for 3 days, 3 days where Pac had to hold Mike during his nightmares, hearing his friend calling desperately for Walter Bob at least most nights, In some of them Mike called Pac name and woke up right after, giving just a single look at his best friend’s face before tears would start to fill his eyes, mind plagued by nightmares that Pac couldn’t even imagine.

Mike had never been very emotional, he wasn’t cold but, the men just preferred to push his emotions down but this time they were too strong and with too many memories attached, Pac knew his friend better that he knew himself and he knew that without a doubt Mike was blaming himself for what happened with Walter Bob, which didn’t help with the tendencies of self-guilty that the men already had, Pac could only be there for him right by his side, the same way he always was.

That wasn’t to say that Pac himself didn’t have nightmares, but they were mostly of the past, he had dreams of sharp teeth dripping with blood while an agonizing pain went up his body, he dreamed about the dead eyes of Jv in the floor of that bloody cell, they were dreams that stopped having years ago, but recently they came back with full force.

Sometimes they would hear voices around the arena, people looking for clues or just being given a tour by Richarlyson, they could reach out at those moments but they didn’t want to let their… friends, see them in that condition, with dark eyes from lack of sleep and puffy eyes from crying. The only reason they decided to leave when those 3 days were over was because Mike was fucking fuming, he had decided to stop being sad and now he was just pissed, ready to overthrow the federation! But baby steps, first they needed to go talk with their friends so with their communicators they asked for everyone who was awake to go meet them at the favelas, immediately people started to aske questions, if they were okay, Pac just answered that they would explain everything once they were at the favelas.

Usually they would like to go by train, but they needed to get there fast so teleporting was the best option, in seconds they were at the main plaza from the favela, standing there was…

- Hey, had fun at prison without me?

All Pac could see in front of him was Cell, in his bloody orange jumpsuit looking at him and licking his lips, Pac could only retreat until his knees hit the fountain and he was made to go to the floor, his breath shallow and his heart going way to fast

- Get away from him Cell! – Mike put himself in front of Pac, trying to shield his friend from danger.

Cellbit looked confused, they interacted just fine nowadays, they held no real grudges for what happened years ago (okay maybe he did a bit, but he pushed that feeling down, just like his therapist had taught him!)

- The fuck is happening over there?– Forever’s loud voice made itself present, he carried at his lap an excited Richarlyson while Bad came right after him.

- I don’t fucking know man – they could hear a very faint “language” being said but they ignored it – I went to say hello to Pac asking if escaping had been more fun without me being there to get in their way and he just… collapsed, and Mike got mad at me.

- Fuck… I think I know what’s going on – he turned to the demon behind him, who today had his long blonde hair out, which was a very common sight when Forever was around – Bad do you mind taking Richas to StarBobby? We kinda need to have an adult talk.

The kid went from his dads arms to his uncle’s, clearly unhappy since he wanted so bad to see his dad Pac and dad Mike.

- I will talk to you later okay? – Forever whispered to Bad, who just did an okay with his head before squeezing Forever’s hand in a gesture of comfort.

- I think I know what happened here.

- Great cause I don’t!

- Think a bit Cellbo, they just came from prison, where for sure a lot of traumas were relived and seeing you – Forever felt a bit awkward, he didn’t want to make it sound like it was his friends fault, but there wasn’t a better way – In their eyes right now, you probably look…

- Like the asshole that tried to kill them – Cellbit sighed, tired just from hearing those words – Look, I’m gonna go back to the castle okay? I will just ruin everything if I stay.

Forever heart ached for all his friends, with such complicated pasts that were interlined, no wonder they sometimes seemed awkward around each other.

- Want me to tell Richas to go with you?

- No, no, you were taking him on a playdate with Dapper, I don’t wanna get in the way, I will just ask Roier to come back with me.

- Alright, take care.

And with that Cellbit disappeared in a purple cloud.

Forever approached the two that were on the floor, Mike had his hand at Pac’s shoulder and they talked in whispers, whatever had happened at that prison hadn’t been good.

[monabela]

hello! welcome to uhh... estliet meetcute time? nothing real fancy here, just a little thing based on a prompt I saw somewhere... at some point

--

Turquoise

characters/pairings: Estonia (Eduard)/Lithuania (Toris), ft background Ukraine (Iryna)/Belgium (Manon)

word count: 2139

summary:

The man sitting outside the fitting rooms at the store wasn't Eduard's friend like he expected, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear him out. He did, after all, look very nice.

--

With a sigh, Eduard turned to look at his own back in the mirror. After an entire afternoon of harshly-lit, upscale fitting rooms, he wasn’t even sure he could say how many outfits he had tried on, and his energy was waning. You’d think he was the one getting married, from the way Iryna had scrutinized the various suits. He wasn’t even in her bridal party; there was no way it really mattered this much what he wore at her wedding.

These slacks were nice, though. Or, at the very least, they were the right length. With how tall Eduard was, he’d flashed Iryna quite some ankle over the past few hours, so that was already an improvement. And he liked the color of this suit, a dark but vibrant turquoise, much more than that burgundy one she’d been enthusiastic about earlier. He had also learned a lot of new color words. Apparently, he looked bad in plum.

Nodding at his slightly messy-haired reflection, he pushed aside the curtain closing off the fitting room and started to walk out, calling, “I like this one, Iryna. The color’s different, but I think the rest is basically the same as that red one you liked. I’m still not sure about the vest, though, it seems a bit…”

He froze in his tracks outside the fitting rooms when he registered the person sitting on the bench there, who definitely wasn’t Iryna. Instead, there was a man, about Eduard’s age, looking up from a notebook with amusement on his face as he tucked long brown hair behind one ear. Eduard blinked at him and tried to pat his own hair down in the face of this handsome stranger watching him with curiosity.

“Uh, so sorry,” he said, flustered. “I thought my friend was… Did you happen to see a tall, blond woman around here?”

The man smiled, capping his fountain pen with careful, elegant fingers. “She just went back out into the store, I think.”

“Ah. Okay. Great, more suits.” Eduard straightened his jacket, absentmindedly watching his reflection do the same. He didn’t want to go out and look for Iryna, not in only his socks—particularly since he was unfortunately wearing Christmas tree-patterned socks in April—and thought it would be weird to go back into his fitting room now, like a child waiting for their parent to come pick them up. He glanced at the man on the bench, who was now tapping his closed pen against his lips, distractingly. There were a few shopping bags on the floor by his feet, and a small box sitting on the bench.

“Can I say something?” the man asked after a moment. He was soft-spoken but clear, his smile threading through his words.

“About my suit?”

He nodded, twirling his pen around.

“Go ahead,” Eduard said, turning more towards him.

“Well, I obviously didn’t see the red version of this, but I think this probably suits you better. Red would wash you out, I’d guess.” He shrugged, smiling and still fidgeting with his pen. “The vest probably depends on the occasion, but I think it… It adds something.”

The man ducked his head slightly, hair falling around his face, and Eduard bit his lip. He probably shouldn’t take fashion advice from random strangers, no matter how handsome, but he could see that, although the man’s clothes weren’t anything flashy, they were a nice quality and well-coordinated, from his maroon sweater to his dark jeans, and a woollen coat hung over the back of the bench. Vaguely, he thought Iryna might approve. He did; the red brought out gold in the man’s hair and warm tones in his skin. He didn’t think he knew clothes could do that before this afternoon, but he appreciated it now that he saw it in action. It made him want to touch.

“It’s for a wedding,” he clarified instead, curling his fingers.

“Then the vest is probably a good addition. And—hm.” The man looked up at the bright lights for a moment, allowing Eduard to see that his eyes were pine green, and then back at him. “If you usually wear those glasses, with the silver, those will match better with turquoise than red, I think.” He looked away again, to hook his pen into the spiral ring of his notebook. The writing on the page was in purple ink.

“So you’re… An expert?” Eduard asked, which made him laugh softly and melodiously as he shook his head.

“Not at all. I’m finishing a degree in psychology; I’ve just been cajoled into a lot of shopping trips by a friend of mine, and he has far too many opinions on clothes to ignore.” By the way he gestured at the fitting rooms, Eduard guessed this friend was the reason the man was sitting here at all.

“Well, thank you anyway. I feel like I’ve needed a second opinion,” he said, and looked in the mirror again. The vest was nice, even if the effect of its black fabric on his black shirt was subtle. Besides, it’d probably be useful to have, anyway.

“Of course,” the man was saying, and he ran a hand through his hair when Eduard looked at him, so that it fell in messy waves around his face. How did that manage to look so good? It gave him the appearance of being a little roguish, behind the gentle smile. “I’m always happy to… To help out a handsome man in a suit.”

Eduard blinked, swallowing hard. The suit suddenly felt much too tight, and the man’s smile was far too distracting to be allowed.

“Yeah?” he squeaked, embarrassingly. Where was Iryna? What was she even doing out there? Even after all these years, Eduard obviously still didn't know how to flirt, and she was getting married. She must have learned at some point, and he felt like he needed help.

The man let out a long breath and his smile widened a fraction, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at Eduard. His fingers were drumming on his notebook.

Luckily, before Eduard could say the only thing he could think of, which was ‘what about helping a man out of a suit?’, Iryna walked back into the fitting room area, carrying a bunch of ties, which she dropped on the bench to make a beeline for Eduard.

“Eduard, this is nice!” she said, fussing with his lapels. “Though I did like the burgundy on you.”

Eduard shot a look at the man on the bench, who quirked his eyebrows as he uncapped his pen.

“I think it washed me out, Iryna.”

She pursed her lips, then nodded and stepped back, and gestured for him to spin around, which he did.

“Alright, then.” She nodded again. “Well, I suppose this is the best we can do!”

While Eduard pushed at her shoulder, pretending to be offended, the man on the bench muttered something under his breath that made Iryna turn around, crossing her arms.

“Excuse me?” she asked, and the man cleared his throat, green gaze flicking to Eduard and back to her as he wet his lips.

“I was just saying, uh…” He made a small gesture with his pen. “This color brings out his eyes, and I think that… Certainly, no one would want to miss that.”

Mouth opening and closing, Iryna turned back to frown up at Eduard, who shrugged even though his heart was beating overtime.

“He says he’s not an expert, but I think he knows what he’s talking about.”

That made the man smile down at his notebook. Huh. Maybe he did know what to say, sometimes.

“Oh, alright,” Iryna conceded. “You know I was just joking. You look great, Ed, and Manon and I are happy to have you.” She gave him a gentle push back towards the fitting rooms. As he went to—finally—get changed back into his comfortable sweater and jeans for the last time today, he saw a short, blond man emerging from one of the other fitting rooms and stride out with a shirt slung over his arm.

By the time Eduard emerged, tugging his coat on, Iryna was waiting for him, sans ties, and no one else was there. He tried his best not to feel disappointed. It’d probably been a fluke. He hadn’t even asked the man’s name, after all.

“Alright?” Iryna asked, taking the turquoise suit from him.

“Ready to go,” he replied. “You promised Manon would make dinner, don’t think I forgot.”

As she walked away with a laugh, he spotted something on the bench, right where the man had been sitting. The box that had been there next to him—a tie box, Eduard realized. There was a small bow sitting on top of the box, folded out of lined paper with a trailing line of purple ink just visible. Taking a deep breath, he picked the bow up and unfolded it carefully.

In neat cursive, the page read, I think I’ve forgotten my tie. It would be appreciated if whoever finds it, could return it to me, particularly if they look great in turquoise and they don’t check who they’re talking to. Toris Laurinaitis, with a phone number scribbled underneath.

“Eduard!” Iryna called, marching back in while he stared at the notebook page, grinning like a fool. Toris. “I’d like to get home before dinner gets cold. You know how Manon gets about her stew.”

“Huh?” Oh, right. Food. Nodding, Eduard carefully folded the note and tucked it into his wallet. Iryna looked amused as he followed her out to the cash register to pay for his new outfit. They watched the employee fold the clothes carefully into a paper bag, and she nudged him.

“I guess the turquoise was the right choice according to the commentators?”

“Commentator,” he corrected, which made her laugh. She hooked her arm through his and led him out of the store, and finally over to her place to eat her fiancée’s long-awaited dinner.

After the stew, which was delicious as usual, Eduard tuned out Iryna and Manon chatting to pull out his phone and send a text.

Hello Toris, I think you’ve forgotten a new tie at the store. Honest mistake, I’m sure! But I would be glad to return it and to hear more of your expert opinions on what I’m wearing, if you feel inclined :)

Eduard Mets

It seemed only fair to offer his full name in return, he thought. Iryna glanced over with raised eyebrows when his phone dinged, and he smiled innocently at her before reading the reply Toris had sent.

As I said, I’m not an expert! But if you insist, I can probably think of something to say if and when you return my new tie

When sounds good, Eduard replied, saving the contact information in his phone.

“Any reason in particular he’s smiling like a doofus?” Manon asked Iryna, on the other side of the room, and Iryna snorted.

Great! Any chance at all you have a free afternoon this weekend?

I have a free Sunday afternoon :) I do hope you will recognize me without my suit.

Eduard squinted at that message after he sent it. Was that suggestive? It was hard to tell sometimes, and he hoped Toris wouldn’t think he was coming on very strong all of a sudden. He didn’t seem like a man who would appreciate that.

I’m sure I will either way. As I said, I don’t think anyone would want to miss eyes like yours

Adjusting his glasses, Eduard felt his face flush as he smiled at his phone. Another message from Toris appeared quickly following that one, as he was still trying to think of a good reply.

There’s a bakery off Main St that has these amazing pastries, if that’s something you’re interested in

Toris, that is all it would have taken!

He wasn’t even kidding.

Really? Well, good to know for reference. I really don’t think I have much more fashion advice to offer you

Just then, Iryna leaned over the back of her couch, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Eduard, just tell the man you’ll meet him for pastries,” she said, sounding amused. “And if you’re going to sext, please leave our house.”

“I’m not—” he stammered, tilting his phone away. How long had she been standing there? Manon laughed out loud, and Iryna shook her head at him, smiling.

“I know. But really, go meet him. It’ll be good.”

That’s alright, I’m sure there are other things to talk about. I’d like to find out. I will meet you Sunday off Main, then!

I’d like to find out as well. I’ll see you Sunday, Eduard

He would have to check if he had anything turquoise to wear.

[feekins]

aight, re-reading ch 6 and finishing up Trigun Maximum vol 6! here are my thoughts and things and whatever translation weirdness I find, but also expect some Feelings About Knives bc 🥺

(NOTE: I'm reading the Dark Horse [physical] and the Overhaul [online] translations side-by-side)

(Dark Horse on top, Overhaul on bottom)

both translations are technically correct (since, until he learned The Hard Way, Knives literally had no way of knowing his powers had limits), but as always, the nuance is in the wording choices...and I'm not gonna explain why bc spoilers 😜

...not sure what to make of that first translation discrepancy. Dark Horse being needlessly confusing again - but they did their best! the Overhaul is much more straightforward here, and I think their translation of that line is more fitting for Elendira. She's there to live a little as the world burns, baby (and if that ain't a queer Mood, idk what is)!

and then Dark Horse is vague. literal translation, maybe? and/or done at a fast pace? who knows. ty, Overhaul, for clearing up that bit about "fountains of power" for me!

I've seen instances of dead plants like the one in this 2-page spread get very very misinterpreted on The X-Twit, so to clarify:

this dead plant IS NOT Tesla - it EVOKES MEMORIES of Tesla.

(Dark Horse on left, Overhaul on right)

just a subtle wording difference

here, the Overhaul does an awesome job clarifying who's saying what! reading Dark Horse's translation, I'd always assumed the left speech bubble was Rem's while the right was Vash's - which, to me, makes sense given the context? but the Overhaul's more nuanced translation makes it more clear that the right speech bubble is actually Rem's - which makes sense, as we just saw their reactions to the birthday celebration! thanks again, Overhaul! 😁

something I just noticed this read-through - this chapter's flashback focuses mainly on Knives. Nightow keeps showing us his expression and his reactions...and even for me, even after having read the manga several times, it's jarring to see what an optimistic, hopeful, perceptive, caring little boy Knives was...

...while Vash was more reserved, more of a realist (but without being a jerk about it) ...quiet but still very caring.

I prefer the Overhaul's translation on this one, tho - Dark Horse's could be taken to mean "Vash and Knives will need to put forth more effort than humans to establish this relationship" whereas the Overhaul's is much more general, which feels like it fits the situation and the characters much better =u=

again - so hopeful, wanting so badly to connect with and peacefully, joyfully, lovingly coexist with humanity...regardless of their differences, regardless of their past... 🥺

and again - the focus on Knives this chapter.

heehee...

volume 7 is gonna fking hurt 🫠

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Briles

Warnings: mentions of past stalking, Donovan is an idiot

Ao3 Masterlist

Devenford Academy

Ch 2: Pack- Synonymous with Family

Ch 1

---

By some miracle, Stiles didn’t get lost on his way to class. His first lesson was Magic-301. It took him and his teacher all of a five minute introduction to realize he’s a lot smarter than this. A big thanks to his mother’s journals. Unfortunately, Devenford doesn’t offer higher level lessons, so they swapped it out for a free period. Stiles being able to sleep in is definitely a plus in his book.

His astronomy class was pretty cool. Stiles is very excited to learn how to read and map the stars. It’s fascinating to him. He had really hoped he wouldn’t have to sit through mundane classes like math. But Stiles walked into his trigonometry class just the same. It can help with complex spells and even the occasional potion, so the teacher said. The spark would’ve preferred being back in Harris’ class. He’s never been all that good at math. Or science.

Though his stomach is rumbling viciously, the spark opts for a bag of chips and an apple. Also not all that ready to meet the pack officially, Stiles heads out the front doors. Sitting on the edge of the dragon fountain to read. Someone let a bunch of knots get tangled in his stomach when Stiles thinks too much about his predicament. Or about the pack.

It’s quite annoying. He hasn’t been riddled with nerves this bad in a long time. The sick to his stomach feeling when his father passed was different. That was a harrowing, the world is ending, I’m not even eighteen and on my own type of anxiety. Stiles is half tempted to find a spell to help him get a grip. But Stiles knows better than that. Even for someone with experience, spells dealing with emotions are very finicky. Stiles would sooner devoid himself of all emotion by pure accident than actually help his anxiety.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention after levitating his trash into the garbage. Stiles closes his bestiary textbook and looks around. Nothing sticks out, so he fiddles with his bag to seem occupied. He’s not a fool. Bushes rustle on his right.

There’s no wind.

“I know you’re there,” the spark sighs. He doesn’t know who, but there’s definitely someone lurking. When no one answers or makes themselves known, Stiles raises his hand, dragging the person through the air with his magic. The dark haired boy in the same green jacket as Stiles jerks towards him, hovering in the air. 

So he’s a student too at least.

The spark gets up, dangling the boy over the fountain. “Who are you and why are you watching me?” Stiles wiggles his fingers with a smirk, “I’d answer quickly.”

“You must be Stiles,” he laughs nervously, “I’ve heard so much about you,” the guy says. “Could you maybe put me down and we can talk?”

“Yeah, that’s not what I asked,” the spark says, “but sure, I’ll put you down.”

“W-w-wait, no-” the guy yelps.

“Stiles, wait!” An unfamiliar voice behind him yells.

He stops the stranger mid-fall, his butt dangerously close to the water. “Seriously?” Stiles groans, turning around to find Brett jogging towards them. “What?”

“That’s Donovan.” The Alpha’s eyes flash red, raising both hands in defense. Stiles’ must be glowing purple if that’s the wolf’s reaction. “He’s my Beta.”

“Is that meant to matter to me?” The spark snaps, “he was watching me from the bushes!”

Brett breathes out a laugh, dropping his hands, “I never said he was smart. Please, would you put him down?” The wolf nods his head to the side, “maybe not in the fountain?”

Stiles rolls his eyes and with a flick of his wrist, Donovan hits the grass with a thud and a groan. “Beta or not, I don’t take kindly to people stalking me.” Flashes of his ex-girlfriend Malia dance in his brain. The spark won’t go through that again. “Next time there won’t be a warning.”

“I’m sorry,” the Beta stands up, brushing himself off. “I didn’t mean to be a creep.”

“What the fuck else did you expect?” Brett turns to his packmate, towering over him. “Were you thinking at all?”

Donovan ducks his head, “I’m sorry. I know he’s close with Isaac and knows Liam. But I promise I was just thinking of the pack. I wanted to see what kind of person he was by himself. If he’s going to be in the pack, we should know who he is.”

“Hang on-”

Brett cuts him off, “if you have suspicions, you bring them to me. Kind of my job, in case you forgot.” He may not be a wolf, but Stiles can recognize Alpha tone when he hears it. He wishes it wasn’t hot. “And whether or not he joins the pack is entirely up to Stiles,” Brett adds.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Donovan repeats himself, looking genuinely apologetic. “I really didn’t mean to scare you, just find out who you are.”

Stiles sighs, “it’s okay. I’ve just been stalked before. So I’ve learned to keep a better eye on my surroundings.” The bell rings, ending the lunch period. The spark collects his things to leave. “But Donovan,” he turns back towards the pair.

“Yeah?” The Beta looks torn between being afraid and hopeful.

“I haven’t decided about being in the pack or not,” he starts. Stiles just got here. Though being permanently aligned with Isaac and Liam is a major incentive. He wants to think first. And meet the others properly. “But next time you want to figure out who I am, just ask. Make it easy on all of us, ‘kay?”

Donovan beams, nodding, “you got it!”

He turns to leave, hearing Brett say, “I’ll deal with you later.”

“Yes, Alpha,” the Beta whispers.

A shiver forces itself down Stiles’ spine as he heads to his next class.

—

The universe or something really enjoys playing games with Stiles. There’s just simply no other viable explanation. Brett is not in just a couple of Stiles’ classes, Liam. The Alpha is in all three classes after lunch.

Luckily, health class, his hour immediately following lunch was almost full by the time Stiles made it there. With only a handful of open seats left, the spark sat at the one in the middle. Brett walked in not thirty seconds after, a devilish grin on his face when he sees the spark. The Alpha sat directly behind him, not saying anything but Stiles could feel his gaze the whole class.

Stiles has never run out of a classroom once dismissed so quickly in his life. Not even after leaving Harris’ class was the spark that hasty. If his old chemistry teacher saw eagerness to leave, he’d gladly keep you until the next bell.

Continuing his streak of luck, his next to last class of the day, Isaac was waiting for Stiles with an open seat as promised when they went over his schedule. The desk was near the window, so no chance of someone- Brett- sitting next to him. The Alpha was stuck in front of his Beta. It’s still close to the spark, but far enough away that if the wolf tried to watch him during class, the teacher would know and he’d get in trouble.

The spark isn’t trying to be rude either. But every time the Alpha has laid eyes on him, Stiles suddenly feels like prey. That Brett is the big bad wolf ready to gobble him up on the way to Grandma’s house. It’s also the fact that when the wolf had to use his authoritative voice, the spark’s knees wanted to buckle. It was unnecessarily hot. Honestly. Maybe Stiles should take a trip to the guidance counselor’s office. Shrink his head back down to size.

Because as undeniably attractive Brett is, he’s also intimidating as all hell. The way that just a simple alteration of his voice makes others fall in line. The general aura of authority his shoulders carry. His confidence. How the scarlet color of his eyes fit him so fucking well. It’s insane.

And yet, despite all of it, the spark is still attracted to him.

They interacted properly once! One time! If one could even consider Brett asking Stiles not to drown his Beta proper.

He’s in way over his head, Stiles is sure of it.

Best to avoid the flirty Alpha as much as possible. At least until the spark gets used to Brett’s presence and isn’t as affected by simple words. Or looks. 

“Thinking about me, Gorgeous,” the Alpha comes up behind the spark, brushing their arms together.

Stiles hopes the wolf doesn’t notice the goosebumps he caused. “No,” the spark says, pointedly looking ahead.

Brett chuckles, a lazy smirk plastered to his lips, “you don’t have to lie to me, Stiles.”

Had he mentioned how much he hates- loves- the wolf saying his name? All husky and melodious sounding. It’s infuriating. “I’m not lying,” Stiles hugs the bestiary to his chest as if it’d protect him. Wildly surprising, it does literally nothing but give the spark a small semblance of security.

Placebos and denial are powerful things.

“Oh, Stiles,” the wolf leans his head back with a breathless laugh. The spark does not look at that beautifully tan column, no siree. “Do you know nothing about werewolves?” Brett leans in with a grin, like sharing a secret, “or does Isaac just not call you out on your bullshit?” The spark sputters, torn between wanting to laugh or rebuke the accusation some more. “That’s what I thought,” the Alpha wraps his arm around his shoulder.

“Don’t you have something better to do than bother me?” Stiles asks, hoping to change the subject and put the wolf in the hot seat instead. “Like, I don’t know, going to your own class?” Gods willing, it will be far away from the spark.

Brett taps the book still snuggly tucked to Stiles’ chest, “I am.”

Please no.

Someone be looking out for the spark. Anyone, honestly. There’s just no fucking way that the wolf is in all of his afternoon classes. He refuses to believe that. Not even the universe can be that cruel. It can’t be.

But the Alpha raises the same exact textbook in the hand not wrapped around him. Which, why is Stiles still allowing it to be there? Because he’s lying, right. “Looks like we have another class together. Lucky me,” Brett winks at him as they avoid more people to turn the corner.

More like people avoid running into them.

“Why,” Stiles snorts, unable to stop the words, “so you can stroke something else for me under the desk?” He regrets it the second they leave his mouth.

Brett’s voice is right in his ear, “if you’re into that sort of thing, Gorgeous.” He swears he feels the Alpha’s lips bump against his earlobe, “and only if you ask me really nicely.”

The spark shivers despite himself. Stiles really needs to have a nice long talk with his filter. Because there was zero thought process behind that statement. The words just spilled out of their own accord. It’s quite irritating how much his mouth gets him into trouble without his brain’s permission.

Stiles blissfully ignores what just happened, walking into the classroom. Hopefully he can escape the Alpha.

He should stop being surprised at this point.

Or hopeful.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Stilinski,” the teacher behind the desk says. “I’m Mr. Argent,” the man says, “have you been finding your way around Devenford okay?”

“Stiles, and yeah-”

Brett cuts him off again, arm returning around the spark’s shoulder, “Isaac and I have been helping him around.”

That seems to placate the teacher. A smile grows on the man’s face, crinkling around his blue eyes, “glad to see you’re in capable hands, Stiles. Please, take a seat.”

“Come on,” the Alpha guides him through the classroom. “You can sit with me,” Brett says, arm never leaving until they’re actually seated. Stiles doesn’t miss the way the blonde-haired girl moves to a different table so they can sit together. 

—

When the final bell rings, Stiles runs out of the classroom before the wolf can get any ideas. Brett kept his hands to himself, thankfully. The spark just really doesn’t think he can handle much more today. Or the next week for that matter. And what the hell was that about the girl just giving up her seat for him?

It’s like Brett is king shit around here or something.

All the more reason for Stiles to stay away. He doesn’t want or need that kind of attention.

He somehow manages to eat dinner in peace and quiet. Probably because he ate in solitude again. No Donovan snooping around in the bushes. No Isaac ensuring the spark that he’s not alone. But above all, no Brett and his sexy looks and flirtatious comments. 

It was quite boring, but mostly nice.

Gave the spark a moment to breathe.

Until he goes back to the room for the night.

Isaac is lounging on his bed with the blonde girl that moved seats. They’re laughing over something Liam and a dark-skinned boy are arguing about on the floor. Donovan is laying sideways on their armchair, offering a meek smile when he sees the spark. But sitting on Stiles’ bed is fucking Brett.

How is this his life?

Why is this his life?

The Alpha was kind enough to take his shoes off at least. Though that means very little to the spark seeing as Brett is practically hugging his pillow. “Hey, Stiles,” the wolf says in a sultry tone, a devilish smirk on his lips.

The spark’s brain forgets how to operate. Seeing Brett on his bed, like he was waiting for him to get back. And then sounding like that. It makes Stiles swallow with an audible click. 

He waves at the Alpha for the sake of being polite. The spark’s gaze however, is on his best friend that hasn’t noticed him yet. “Uh, Is?”

The wolf startles out of his laugh, “shit, Stiles, hey.”

“What’s going on, buddy?” The spark can’t hide the sarcasm if he wanted to.

“Sorry,” Isaac sits up, “we couldn’t find you at dinner. I was going to introduce everyone then. But since you weren’t around and they were coming over tonight anyway, I figured meeting in the comfort of your own room would be okay.”

His best friend did mention that the pack was giving him a day to adjust. It’s been a day. Stiles really should’ve expected this after hiding during dinner. The spark just wanted to hide from Brett.

Can’t do that with the Alpha on his bed.

“I won’t bite,” Brett says, putting his pillow down to sit up against the spark’s headboard instead. Patting the space beside him, the ‘unless you want me to’ may not be said out loud, but it’s obvious in his smirk.

If it wasn’t Stiles’ own fucking bed, he would sit on the floor. Only that the spark is a stubborn bitch to his very core. So he drops his bag by his nightstand and plops himself next to the Alpha. Kicking his shoes off, Stiles bends one of his legs. He wishes he’d shown up first, he could’ve changed. The spark at least takes his uniform jacket off.

“Actually, no,” Stiles gets off his bed, “I can’t be in this uniform any longer.” That earns him a snicker from everyone. The pack got to get in comfy clothes, he should be allowed to as well. He quickly grabs some pajamas and runs into their bathroom. Changed and much more at ease, Stiles drops the dirty clothes in the hamper and rejoins the Alpha. “Sorry, guys.”

“You’re fine,” Brett says, propping his arm on the spark’s bent knee. The touch instantly warms and calms him despite every other time. The spark doesn’t want to think about what that means. Not at all. “You already met Donovan.”

“Who’s still really sorry, by the way,” the Beta winces through a smile. “I hope you’re not still pissed about that.”

Stiles is still a little weary, but he knows that it ultimately came from a good place. “Just don’t do it again and we’re good.”

“No problem.”

“Sorry,” Isaac points between them, “what have I missed?”

“Donovan was keeping tabs on Stiles,” Brett explains. “From the bushes.”

The girl on the bed groans, “dude!”

Isaac rubs his face, “what the hell, bro?”

“It’s fine. I handled it,” the spark cuts in before the wolf can lose his mind. He knows all about Malia and probably quickly realized how well the situation with his packmated turned out. “So did Brett,” Stiles adds.

The hand on his shin squeezes lightly, “I’ve got you.” Surely the others heard even though it was whispered to him. But the others act as if they haven’t heard a thing. “That’s Mason,” he points to the dark-skinned boy next to Liam. “He’s a spark.” He knows that already, but it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.

“It’s nice to meet another spark,” Mason waves at him.

“For sure,” Stiles agrees. “Maybe we can teach each other a thing or two.”

The other spark snickers, “probably more you than me. From what I hear, you’re brilliant.”

“Yes, I talk about my best friend, deal with it,” Isaac says at the look Stiles shot at him.

“I’m Lori,” the girl pipes up before the Alpha can.

“My sister,” Brett grumbles, patting his leg. To remind Stiles he’s there and that the spark is allowing the touching again or he’s restless? Looking between the two, he can see the similarities. Makes sense now why she was willing to give up her seat for him.

The she-wolf smiles at him, “if it makes you feel any better, Isaac isn’t the only one. I’ve heard plenty about you. I feel like I know you already.”

“Lori,” Brett growls in warning.

She laughs, “what? Someone needs to knock you down a peg or two.”

“I like you,” Stiles tells her with a grin, overjoyed at the fact that Brett finally seems embarrassed for once.

Things calm down after that. Everyone is talking and getting along. Brett’s hand never leaves some part of him, constant contact that the spark kind of doesn’t mind. It’s actually really nice to be around the pack. Stiles might even be able to get used to it.

[reallygrossstuff]

since you mentioned it in the diaperstuck discord... Kris equipping the party with increasingly embarrassing and babyish items with weird effects... but the stats are so good! They can't just throw away items that powerful!~

This request spoke to me, I love RPG mechanics and I love getting to describe outfits, so thanks for indulging me! And I'm glad you liked that conversation, it was definitely a fun one.

(Had to cut myself off from describing about three tiers of increasingly embarrassing and humiliating outfits, lmao)

---

“Can I say? I freaking hate all of this crap.”

The chests Kris had been finding as they moved through the Dark World were... unexpected, to say the least. Some of them simply held weird items, friendship bracelets or brooches or average new weapons for their party members, but yet others seemed decidedly out of place.

Unlike the red chests, these boxes were always a pale blue, held shut by a pair of flimsy latches instead of a single clasp. In the beginning, the items these chests contained weren’t as necessary, and generally they didn’t ask anyone to wear them unless truly needed. Sure, a certain wristband might have increased Susie’s defence by a few points, but it wasn’t worth it if she was constantly distracted resisting the urge to chew on it. And what was the use in a pair of shoes that boosted Ralsei’s healing, if they also made him stumble and trip during combat?

As the party moved closer to the king’s castle and its fountain, though, the gap between the ‘normal’ equipment they found and the less usual pieces grew larger, and their bonuses grew more necessary to continue.

The outfit Susie was complaining about at the moment was the latest in a line of clothes she’d been voicing her displeasure at. In a paradox that would have been amusing if it were present in a game instead of real life, the clothing that granted her the most defence and survivability also appeared the daintiest. This one, a peach-coloured baby romper with a subtle zigzag pattern, was certainly the daintiest yet, only made more so by the pink ribbon pulling her hair out of her eyes and into a small ponytail.

“Sorry,” Kris said, trying to convey past their flat affect that they really were, “but you need the extra defence. That last jigsawry nearly knocked you out, and if it had then the rest of us would’ve gone down too. You need to be able to take more hits.”

Susie growled, clenching her fists around the grip of her new hammer - it squeaked when impacting enemies, but made them tired extremely quickly. “How the hell does that even work? My normal clothes are thicker than this, they should give me better defence!”

“But Susie,” Ralsei said soothingly, “if you’re cuter, darkners won’t hit you as hard.”

“You calling me cute, feather-duster?!”

Ralsei squeaked as Susie gnashed her teeth, taking an unconscious step behind Kris to shield himself. “N-no, of course not, w-who’d call you cute, haha! J-just, um, other people might think that, a-and you are taking more hits the cuter your, um, your clothes are, so...”

After a few more seconds of levelling a murderous glare at Ralsei, Susie deflated slightly, turning a slightly less violent look on Kris. “If you tell anyone I wore this crap, they won’t believe you, and I’ll throw you in the dumpster behind Ice-E’s.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Kris sighed, tugging gently on Ralsei’s arm to get him walking with them as they continued forwards. “Who’d believe me about the Dark World in the first place? And besides, we’re all dealing with this.”

Susie snorted, falling into line behind Kris, on the other side to Ralsei. “Some of us way more than others.”

“Susie’s kind of right, it is strange there isn’t really anything for you in these chests, Kris... maybe we should go back and see if we’ve missed any, it’d be bad if your stats fell too far behind.”

Looking backwards at Ralsei as they walked, Kris conceded the point. While Ralsei’s clothing wasn’t as drastically changed as Susie’s, he was in a shorter robe than he’d started the adventure in, one that somehow looked even fluffier than his original one. It, along with the plastic diaper cover made visible by its short hem, was one of the best items for magic power Kris had found so far, while his new duck-patterned scarf sharply boosted his ability to channel tension points. Yes, it also made him poorly balanced in combat, and the matching mittens he wore made him unable to access his inventory quickly, but it was getting harder and harder to put enemies to sleep, so he’d had to get used to it all.

Kris knew in comparison they’d gotten it easier so far. They wore a silicone chew necklace over their armour which improved their ability to act at the cost of a quiet urge to stim with it, but otherwise all of their armour and weaponry had come from red chests. They were certain they would’ve found equipment if they looked, the same way their teammates’ outfits were clearly intended for them, and while they hadn’t ignored any blue chests they’d actually seen, neither were they keen on going back and searching for any.

They wouldn’t rub salt in Susie’s wounds, but the longer they could go without matching her, the better.

“Going back means more time for us to be worn down by other darkners,” They explained, shaking their head. “It’s better if we keep moving forward and try to find new things instead.”

“Man, stop being right, it’s not fair you get to dodge all this crap,” Susie groused, but kept following them regardless. “I swear, it’s like you’ve got some kind of magic shield stopping anything from-”

“-oh, there’s another chest!”

Ralsei’s call came a minute before they actually reached the chest, before they could even determine which kind it would be. But as it came into focus, no longer obscured by trees, all three of them could see that it was another blue chest, guaranteed to be more powerful - but less convenient - than someone’s current loadout.

Kris took responsibility for opening it, like all the other ones, and like the others they crossed their fingers as they levered the lid open, hoping that nothing too bad would be inside.

Unlike those other times, their luck ran dry.

Susie barked a single, sharp note of laughter when the contents were revealed, though whether at the equipment itself or from how the colour drained from Kris’ face was an open question.

“I don’t actually need to wear this,” Kris said quickly, making what they knew was a cowardly exit. “It won’t make my acts any stronger, and the downsides aren’t worth it like yours-”

“-It’ll make you take as many hits as Susie can, and you’ll always move first in fights,” Ralsei interrupted, kindly but without mercy. Fixing him with their flattest look only made them shrug nervously, clumsily tugging on the brim of their hat. “I-it’s true.”

“What was it you told us, Kris?” Susie clapped one hand on Kris’ shoulder, locking them in place in front of the chest. “Downsides don’t matter if they get us through this place faster, right?”

Forced to stare at their new equipment, robbed of any out they could find, Kris could only mumble, “where do I even start with putting that on?”

“I think I can see how it fits. Susie, if you help me take these mittens off, I think we can sort it out together...”

---

Kris was never going to be able to open a chest again.

As Ralsei neatly folded their previous gear to pack into the next dimensional box they found, Susie started laughing at them all over again, watching their clumsy attempts to stand upright. “Oh, god, this makes it all worth it actually. You look like the world’s worst spaceman!”

“We’re absolutely not talking about this,” Kris forced out in a deadpan, taking their movements even slower, insistent on being able to stand on their own.

On the upside, Ralsei was right; Kris felt sturdier wearing their new equipment, and that strange new sense they’d gotten since arriving in the Dark World said they would in fact move first in every fight. On the downside, that came at the cost of wearing a full-body sleeper with sewn-in mittens and booties.

The bulk of the sleeper was the same night-sky blue as their bodysuit, but there were accent stripes up their outer thighs and along their arms in the hot pink of their original cape, and their extremities were swaddled in the same colour. The sleeper had large pads of foam to replicate the armour they could no longer wear, albeit the cuirass was designed to look more like a sewn-on bib, complete with a childish card suits pattern. The zipper keeping them in ran parallel to their spine, which had required Ralsei to help them into and would certainly require Ralsei to get them out of, since they doubted Susie would cooperate with that.

Somehow making it worse, the sleeper was padded out around their waist, the material there baggy enough to accommodate the thick diaper they wore underneath it. Kris had tried to insist there was no reason to wear that too, but Ralsei had innocently commented on the underwear’s all-stats boost, and after that Susie had refused to let them opt out, which they should have expected.

Finally reaching their feet, Kris’ arms windmilled for a second, trying to find their balance with their gait and centre of gravity so altered. They stood at least an inch shorter just from how bow-legged the diaper made them, and every testing step they took was both insultingly slower and accompanied by a loud rustle, not at all muted by the thick sleeper covering their diaper.

“I mean,” Susie started, words interrupted by yet more laughter, “I’m not gonna tell anyone else, that’d be stupid with what you’ve got on me. But oh man, Kris, you are not hearing the end of this from me any time soon.”

Feeling unwanted colour rise in their cheeks, Kris looked away, hoping for some kind of support from Ralsei. But the goat simply hid his face under his hat, now finished packing their supplies and fumbling with his own mittens. As Susie helped him into them, Kris realised that Susie was now the only member of their party with quick inventory access, or available to help with changing equipment.

“Let’s just. Go. Before this manages to get even more awkward.” Setting a much slower pace, Kris walked - or waddled - onward, uncomfortably bare-handed since their mittens wouldn’t close around the hilt of any weapon.

Maybe that was a blessing, they thought. With how their luck had turned, any new weapon probably would’ve just been a giant rattle.

[etruatcaelum]

ELAH REVONTULET

PHYSICAL

Stocky in life; unnaturally tall since his death, and being no wider than before, appears proportionally to be rail-thin. Flesh is dead-pale, embalmed, peeling away to expose livid muscle or white bone. Sharp yellowed teeth. Hair is really a pelage. Close inspection would reveal a pair of small ears hidden in the fur: those of a Solitan fox, one of them half missing. Shoulders and back bristle with long bone-like quills. Crimson venation is visible where his bone is exposed, in the same branching, feathered, lightning-struck pattern Salem has. Elongated limbs. But for his face, most of his body is scabrous grimm hide.

Eyes: the left has an inky sclera and a brilliant silver iris, lacking a pupil. His right socket is filled with atrum and a bead of ever-burning flame.

STYLE

Robes, usually with elaborate ornamentation. He likes beading and embroidery, favoring sharp geometric patterns and flowing lines that resemble grimm venation. Black, midnight blue, shades of indigo, maroon, jade.

His emblem is a winged hound, depicted in profile, crouched upon a human skull.

THE HOUND

Much like Cinder's arm, the Hound is fully under Elah's control. It grows in and out of his right eye.

Elah has been dead, by the time the plot of RWBY begins, for seventy-eight years; what remains of his original body is very decayed, having been allowed to rot before he resorted to embalming. The Hound itself, Salem modeled after a rare morph of grimm called the bisclavert.

Wild bisclaverts are parasites carried in the jaws of larger grimm, until they can enter the bloodstream of a suitable host through a bite. Bisclavert infections—uniquely among parasitic forms of grimm—are seldom fatal, as the grimm adapts itself to replace the internal structures of the host body one by one, until the host is physically dependent upon the grimm to survive. (Those infected by bisclaverts are, however, caput gerat lupinum under Valean law and can be killed with impunity; few survive past the point where they begin to develop obvious visible signs.)

The Hound is morphologically similar, but was formed from the true pool of grimm—the wellspring in Salem's soul, not the unliving atrum that can be found on Remnant's surface—and infused with the living waters of the fountain of life before being bound to Elah's soul. The upshot is that it's a kind of eldritch life support with regenerative and shape-changing capabilities on par with Salem's.

When Elah brings out the Hound, his body sort of... deflates. His head is better preserved than the rest of him, but inside the hound he's little more than bones wrapped in tattered, half-rotten skin. When he is in, for lack of a better phrase, person mode, the Hound is on the inside serving as muscles and organs and so on.

AURA

Silver. Like Salem, when he draws it out, it chars and disperses like smoke, and he can use it to mimic ancient magic the same way she does.

SEMBLANCE

He calls it Giddy Flame. Elah can extend his aura in long ribbons and then ignite it, producing a pale, cold-burning, greenish light. These ribbons of light undulate and ripple like streams of fiery water, and unless he sends them elsewhere, they'll flow in his wake as he moves. He can also separate pieces and leave them burning in place as small baubles of ghostly fire.

The light cast by Giddy Flame fascinates grimm, but they can't cross over or through it. Long before he met Salem, Elah used his semblance to go among grimm... and grew fascinated just as fascinated with them as they were with his flames.

His semblance isn't suppressed by the Hound, although of course he no longer needs it to protect himself from grimm. He uses it to communicate, guide his allies, disorient foes and lead them astray, and provide illumination for himself in absolute darkness—even by fauni standards, his vision in the dark is so exceptional that he can see clearly by Giddy Flame alone.

HISTORY

Elah was born in Mantle half a century before the Great War and, in his youth, passed himself off as a human for long enough to study classic literature and history at the prestigious Ambergris College for two years. During his enrollment, he was noted by peers and professors alike as a brilliant young man, if... unusual. During his second year of study, he became keenly interested in a dangerous crackpot theory about religious connections between ancient demes—the nomadic fauni communities of the Taiyin Steppe—and grimm, which ultimately led to him being found out as a faunus and expelled.

Following this incident, he disappeared into the disorderly ranks of conspiracy theorists, grifters, and dedicated mystics who comprised Mantle's thriving occult community.

During that time that Elah began to develop an interest in silver. He did not have silver eyes in life—although his eyes were a striking steely color that did cause occasional excitement in the esoteric circles he traveled—but his aura was silver, and the flame of his semblance seemed to both repulse and fascinate the grimm in a manner not dissimilar to certain fantastical tales of argents.

So he walked among them, studied them, learning them and—he would later come to understand—being learned by them. His earlier interest in ancient fauni worship of grimm returned with a vengeance and mingled with his philosophical ideas on the nature of silver, yielding a new theory on the metaphysical relationship between silver and grimm.

After the passage of the Interdiction—Mantle's brutally repressive crackdown on free expression, which included unsanctioned occultism of the kind Elah practiced—he left the kingdom altogether, built himself a camp, and began to live full time in the Coldfire Waste, far to the north of Mantle.

It was then that the horde he'd been studying, which had begun to think of him as its person and didn't know how best to insure his well-being, turned to Salem for help.

Elah recognized her at once as a figure out of the obscure myths he'd spent his youth immersed in, and to his delight it swiftly became apparent that she was just as fascinated by his theories as he was. The pair of them spent most of the fractious decades preceding the Great War and a large portion of the war itself collaborating on what might be described, delicately, as outrageously dangerous alchemical research. (Among other things, Elah began to make a regular practice of consuming atrum for no real purpose other than to find out what would happen.)

Just two years before the ratification of the Vytal Accords, Elah—by then nearly sixty and in quite poor health—died. Salem buried him in the heart of his horde's territory in accordance with his dying wish and returned to her home in Alukah.

Four years after that, he turned up on her doorstep again: still apparently in his late fifties and very ill, but certainly more alive than anyone who'd spent the last few years buried under permafrost had any right to be. Both he and she were confounded. Further experimentation led them to conclude that the cumulative effect of their research, together with the touch of the void in Elah's soul and its interaction with the sheer quantity of atrum he'd imbibed over the years, had left him... mortal in death, just as in life. Some disruption in the afterlife had enlivened him there and cast his soul and self back into his body.

This made for an unpleasant existence, but there didn't seem to be anything to do except live (and die) with it. Each time he returned again, his eyes shaded closer to silver; besides this, his peculiar form of immortality effected no discernible physical change. His body aged while he lived and rotted while he died; thus his physical condition steadily deteriorated.

By the present, his body was in such poor shape that he would die again within mere minutes of each revival, and Salem had resigned herself to keeping him in cold storage until the end of time.

Then Cinder inadvertently gave her reason to question their long-held belief that silver eyes could only harm grimm, and later to take a stab at drawing grimm from a human soul. The wheels started turning; she hit on the idea of providing Elah with a living body he might inhabit for more than a few painful minutes at a time.

The Hound experiment was not a complete success, before he died again in Atlas, but its regenerative and metamorphic abilities allow him to regrow his body once he comes back to life—several weeks after the city falls—whereupon he fishes himself out of the sea no worse for where and rejoins Salem in Vale.

MAJOR HEADCANONS

On Silver –> & Addendum: On Silver Bloodlines Myth: Creation of the Grimm –> & Addendum: Origin of Atrum On the Creatures of Grimm –> & Addendum: On Revenants

PRINCIPAL ALLUSIONS

His canonical allusion is obscure, aside from the obvious but rather arbitrary Fox and the Hound reference; but come tin hat with me. I think he's based on the H.P. Lovecraft short story The Hound. If the ghoul stalking his victims in the guise of a monstrous bat-winged hound fits...

Maiden-in-the-Tower Stories –> Petrosinella's hound. Obviously.

OTHER NOTES

Salem's lineup of weird little freaks feels incomplete without the kind of Lovecraftian mad alchemist who would drink the grimm slime. You feel me?

He is, of course, thoroughly off his rocker.

Though successful in that it got him out of the sarcophagus, the original experiment was quite rudimentary; Elah could barely speak and was in a considerable amount of pain, despite improving by leaps and bounds once he was lively enough to offer even the most basic gestural feedback. After going through a few more iterations in Vale to resolve these problems, he becomes, shall we say, a lot more personable.

Notwithstanding the decay and the unpleasantness of ping-ponging back and forth between alive and dead, he's fairly cheerful about the whole situation and well past any feelings of horror or existential dread.

He reeks like a charnel house. Because he's dead. Sorry.

[teddy06writes]

You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now

Requested by this anon: "Okay I thought of this idea during Fundy's stream. Quackity and reader were engaged to Karl and Sapnap, but they left because of Karl losing his memory and Sapnap paying more attention to him. Quackity and reader then created Las Navadas to try and cope with everything that's happened to them. They created a little wedding area where they planned to get married with Sap and Karl. Flash forward to a year or two later, Karl and Sap stumble across Las Navadas and their two former fiancees. And they see everything they've done, including the little wedding area. which is perfectly designed as to how they wanted their wedding together. That's is as far as I got to the imagine in my head. If you could make a fic out of it that would be cool. If not at least you have this cute imagine in your head! 😊"

{Okay, so- so man feels, so many ideas. I haven't seen all of the Los Nevadas streams yet because I've got a lot of school stuff going on, but, I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. [also Slime from The Ground my beloved]}

Quackity x reader; Past: Sapnap x Karl x Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: maybe some swearing, slight descriptions of a panic attack, slight drinking

premise: After L'manburg was destroyed, two of your fiancées seemed to disappear. With just Sapnap left, you had been scared, but he assured you that the right thing to do was split up to try and find Quackity and Karl. And, well, you found Quackity, but when He found Karl.... something else had taken over, and suddenly Kinoko Kingdom was more important than finding you and quackity again. But thats fine. You and Quackity had been together in the begining, so what did you need from the other two? Las Nevadas could fill the void they left,,, and it did, until they happened to come knocking, right as you were finally moving on.

{Also, parental unit for everyone in Las Nevadas, I love it, brain is going brr so hard}

{also also, purpled is the forgotten eldest child of the server and no the ufo does not get blown up}

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

"It's gone, (y/n) it's all gone," You said with disbelief, staring over the barren, ashy place that had once been L'manburg and El Rapids, "We couldn't stop him."

Sapnap took in a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "We were never could have. Even if the supplies weren't destroyed."

The remaining people had already cleared out, but you had only now come to see the damage, having been forced away from the battle by your fiancées.

"I could have helped." You fell to your knees, still staring at the wreckage.

Sapnap could only sigh at the broken look on your face. You had lost the only home you'd ever known, but what had he lost? Well, for one thing, Karl.

Karl was still no where to be found, and now it seemed that Quackity had disappeared.

He fiddled with the purple band that circled one of his fingers, "Look- we- we need to find Quackity and Karl. Q looked pretty bad the last time I saw him, and Karl-"

Resolutely you nodded, dragging yourself to stand, "Karl is Karl. He'll be happy that his statue missed being blown up. I think its Q we should be worried about. This place- El Rapids- that was everything to him."

"Well- how about you go find Quackity, and I go find Karl. We're bound to find them eventually if we split up." He offered.

You studied the look on his face, "You're covering for him. What's going on?"

Sapnap only shook his head.

Crossing your arms you turned toward the hill, and what was left of the prime path, "Quackity has the deed to some land. North of Spawn. Meet us there once you kind K, alright?"

"Okay." He said softly, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Be safe." You advised, already starting away.

~~

It didn't take you very long to track down your Fiancé, in all the time you'd known him (much longer than you'd known the others), he hadn't changed too much.

So, when you made your way through the twisted paths near Pogtopia, he was up on the ridge, sitting on the rock that had for so long, doubled as a bench.

"It's good to see you're safe." You hugged your arms to your body, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

As soon as you were sitting next to him, he was leaning on you, "He destroyed everything- all that work- El Rapids-"

"I know." You wrapped your arms around him, finally letting your own tears fall, "I know."

"What are we gonna do? I just wanted a place for us- I just- I wanted to make a place for us- all we asked for was recognition- and now the only place that saw was recognizing us is gone."

It had taken a while for Quackity to stop talking about everything that had been destroyed. Even then he kept asking, "But- Just wanted to make a place for you guys, how are we gonna do that now?"

"We can still make a place," You assured him, even as you yourself were unsure, "We'll make our own little country. So far out where no one will be able to blow it up."

He seemed to take to the idea quickly, and that night, as the two of you sat together in the camp that had been made within the caverns of Pogtopia, he talked feverently of the country you two would make.

He talked of buildings, of businesses, and of wedding venues. The plans he made up that night, they were almost enough to make you forget about what had happened to your home.

"What about that land north of spawn?" You suggested, letting your head rest back on his shoulder.

Quackity thought about it for a moment, "I mean- its just some desert, but I think we could make it work."

"Good, I told Sap to meet us there once he found Karl."

He nodded, "We'll head up there, and start getting everything ready, and then when they're ready they can come up."

~~ This was how three months came to pass, with the busyness of planning the new city, the beginning of construction, the meetings with Sam to plan for the new economic system that the new country would spread through the lands.

Yet you still felt off. It had been that long and Karl and Sapnap had never returned, something must have gone horribly, horribly wrong. It nagged at you, constantly, Drove you sick with anxiety somedays.

"(y/n)."

You looked up from the designs for the next casino you had been going over, "Sam! I didn't know you were visiting today! What can I do for you?"

"Uhhh, I wasn't planning on it, you better come out here- it's Quackity, we had been discussing- some things. I don't know what happened but when he passed back through-" The creeper hybrid trailed off.

You quickly stood, rushing passed him and through the hall to the courtyard where Sam had left him, gasping for breath and tugging at his hair.

In an instant you were kneeling beside him, "Breath baby, breath."

"They- he- George- Kinoko- Sap- left- on purpose-" He blubbered.

"Hey, Q," You took his hands as gently as you could, "look at me. Breath, breath with me. Come on, breath."

Slowly, he began to calm down, and by the time Sam was long gone he slowly began to explain what happened.

"I was heading back from talking with Sam, I saw George outside the prison. He kept talking about something- about- Kinoko Kingdom..." He sighed.

"Kinoko- what?" You asked, confused.

He let his head drop into his hands, "Karl and Sapnap.... started another country- called Kinoko Kingdom... they didn't even wait for us."

You felt your heart drop, if you hadn't been holding his hands yours would've been shaking, "What-"

Quackity could only nod shakily as he pulled you into his arms.

"I told him to come back here- I told- why didn't they-" You muttered absently.

The only noise in the courtyard was from the fountains, and the small sniffles from the two of you.

You were still in a state of semi-shock and sadness when you felt his arms tighten around you.

"We don't need them anyway. Las Nevada's can prosper without them."

~~ "Purpled? You want to get him in on this?" Quackity frowned.

You shrugged, "He's a mercenary, he could be of some help around here."

Your fiancé studied your face for a moment, "No, that's not it. Why do you really want him here?"

"Look, he's-" You sighed, "The kids been through a lot. He doesn't really have anything anymore, he needs somewhere, someone at least. We owe that too him at least."

After a moment, he nodded, "I haven't spoken to him since I paid him for his help with that egg mess. He- didn't seem to like me being around."

"I'll try to find him, he'd talk to me, I'm sure of it." You stood up from your seat at the table.

"You're going now?" He asked, following you across to the coat room.

You nodded, tugging on your boots, "If I want to make it through to the Greater SMP before it gets dark. I'll see if Eret will let me stay the night, then I'll head out again."

"Be careful." Quackity advised once you were ready.

You pecked at his lips, "I always am."

The journey to the Greater SMP went quickly, and after a nights stay in Eret's castle, you had made your way to the UFO, disappointed to find it seemingly abandoned.

"How the hell am I supposed to find him if the one place he ever seems to be is empty." You muttered, glancing around the base of the UFO.

You shrugged off your knapsack, dropping it to the side, followed by the sword that had been at your hip, and then you began to climb.

Even the inside of the UFO was completely empty, devoid of any chests, crafting tables, or furnaces.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

You jumped, turning to find Purpled, in full netherite, sword gripped tight in his hand.

"I- We've been looking for you." You fumbled for an explanation, holding up your hands in a sort of surrender.

He scoffed, "I already did a job for you people, I'm busy now."

"Not for a job Purpled!" You couldn't help but exclaim, "Some people actually try to find you for more than just that."

"Then what do you want?" He snapped.

"Did Q tell you about Nevadas?"

Purpled frowned, "Yeah, he mentioned it."

"Well, I think you should join. Come in on the project."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

You sighed, "Look, Purpled, you- everyone here, in this smp, they don't care, they don't bother to know you. You- you don't really have a place here-"

"You think I don't know that?" Purpled's grip on his sword tightened.

"So, If you come with us, join Las Nevadas, you can have a place- have people who care. You need people, Purpled."

"I don't Need anyone." He insisted.

You sighed, "Someday your going to have to see that that's not true. Please consider joining Las Nevadas, no one here cares, but we do."

"That's not true," He said bitterly, "You just need me to do another god damned job."

With a shake of your head you turned, preparing for the climb back down, "Purpled, this smp isn't kind to children, but I think it's been the most unfair to you. Out here your being forgotten, but you might not be if you join us."

~~

At the base of the UFO you were surprised to find a strange, slimly looking boy digging through your bag.

"Hey!" You yelled, "Don't touch that! It's not yours!"

He looked up and froze, realizing he'd been caught.

You snatched your things away from him, quickly unsheathing your sword, "Who are you?"

"Uhhhh, I'm a meat person- same as you!" He offered.

"You- you're- uh-" You sputtered for a moment confused, "Why were you touching my things?"

"Uhhhhh, Dap me up!" He said avoiding the question.

You stared at him for a moment, "I don't have time for this."

As you started back toward the prime path you heard him call, "Nice to meet you (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

"How do you know my name?" You demanded, whirling around.

"Oh, I know a lot of things." He laughed, "I see lots 'a stuff."

You frowned, "Uh huh. I'm gonna- walk away now."

~~ A week had passed, and there was still no signs of Purpled, nor Fundy or Foolish, (both of whom Quackity had gone to speak to whilst you were away), coming to Las Nevadas.

You were sure that Purpled would come around eventually, but had no faith that anyone else would join Las Nevadas, until you had heard a strange noise in the night.

It had been a cross between a clang and a yell, and then almost like something being dragged.

You had been going over some of the contracts you had been preparing for if anyone ever did show up when you'd heard it, and your fiancé seem to be gone from his own office, and your bedroom even, so quickly you armed yourself with your sword before hurrying out after the noise.

The streets of Las Nevadas were still partially lit by street lamps as you hurried along, it didn't take you long to find your fiancé, just outside of city limits, pacing In front of a strange looking hole.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed.

"Hey! It's (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

You jumped at the voice, turning to see that no, the hole wasn't green, that the same slime boy from before was sitting in it.

"You! What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas put me in this hole!" He said cheerfully.

Quackity grabbed your shoulder, turning you away from Slime and the hole, "You know him?"

"He was trying to look through my stuff after I talked to Purpled," You explained, glancing back over at the hole, "Said he sees just about everything, uhh, as far as I can tell, he's like the hybrids- but- weirder."

"Nope! I'm just a totally goopless guy! I'm bones and stuff!" He called from the hole.

"Oh god we have crazy people here." Quackity muttered scrubbing a hand over his face.

You moved to crouch next to the hole, "What- uh- What are you doing here buddy?"

"Oh I'm just oozing around. Dap me up!"

Confused, you complied, nervously laughing as he grinned at the handshake.

"I found him spying in the restaurant." Quackity sighed.

"What's spying?" The boy in the hole asked, "I just listen."

"Yeah well tell me exactly what you heard or I'll ill you right now!" Quackity threatened, pulling out his sword.

He hummed, "Well, I saw you, and I saw (y/n) from Las Nevadas. And there was a green guy, and a purple guy. I know of a Red guy, dead guy but he's not dead anymore-"

Your breath hitched, "Dead guy?"

"Yeah, looked real ashy- maybe even ...sooty?..." He confirmed.

Quackity glanced back at you, "And he's not dead anymore?"

"No. He's weird now. Got gray hair instead of grey skin. Used to run a country- got blown up though."

"How much have you seen man?" You asked, incredulous.

He shrugged, "I mean, I move slow but I've seen a lot. Lately a lot of conversations about taking advantage of the ever so fragile human psyche through gambling."

"Holy shit." you muttered.

Quackity glared up into the night sky, almost looking for an answer.

Shifting closer too look at the boy you frowned, "What's all that green stuff?"

"Oh- those are just- my totally normal- human parts! I'm a person!" He grinned.

You sighed, "Uhh, look, what's your name? Like how I'm (y/n) from Las Nevadas, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm goop from the ground!" He smiled for a moment before realizing his mistake, "I mean- I'm a meat person!"

Quackity still seemed to be praying to the sky, not paying any attention.

"Goop from the ground," You muttered, slowly connecting the dots, "Well, uhh, goop, how bout I give you a regular person name?"

"A person name? Oh boy!" He laughed.

You thought for a moment longer, "How about- Charlie?"

Charlie grinned, somehow even wider than before, "Woah! I have a real human name! Like any other regular human meat person!"

"Yep, you do." You chuckled.

"And, to be clear, I definitely am one of those, and not a piece of goop, that's slowly come to the surface, hiding as a person!"

As you continued to talk with Charlie, Quackity seemed to come to a realization, "He's like an accidental spy!"

And, when you helped him out of the hole Quackity was quick to say, "Well, this- this- was- was uh a formal greeting! Yeah that's what we call them!"

"Wow!" Charlie mused.

The walk back to Las Nevadas was quiet, until Charlie turned to you, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas, if I'm Charlie- where- where?"

You smiled, "Do you want to be Charlie from Las Nevadas?"

~~

By the end of the same week, after having gotten Charlie fully on board, and slight agreement from Foolish, word finally came from Purpled.

You'd been working on the next phase of the whole Nevadas Project when Charlie rushed in, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas! There's someone here!"

You frowned, "Who?"

"Purpled from UFO!" He practically yelled.

Standing, you tucked your papers away, "That's perfect Charlie, thank you. Do you want to come with to help show him around?"

He nodded, following you out of your office.

Outside, you found Purpled, along with his dog, looking up at the casino in awe.

"Purpled! You came!" You called cheerfully.

The boy turned, a strange expression you couldn't read on his face, "What? No 'I told you so'? No 'I knew you'd come around eventually'?"

You shrugged, "I'm just glad you finally came."

He sighed, "It's not like they needed me anywhere else."

You put a hand on his shoulder, "That's alright, We need you here."

"They- I went to tell Ponk I was leaving," Purpled sounded too broken, too tired, "He said he was too busy to talk to me."

Before you could say anything, he continued, "I had a house, near L'Manhole. I- I uh blew it up, to see what would happen," His shoulders began to shake, ever so slightly, as he finished in a whisper, "No one even noticed."

In one quick move you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, "It's okay Kid, it'll be okay now."

That was how your fiancé found you, standing outside the main casino, a teen all but sobbing into your shirt, Charlie looking on confused.

~~

And so, the time passed, Las Nevadas grew, and you and your new little family did along with it.

Quackity found it funny, really, your ability to bring people onto your side be connecting with them emotionally, and as he put it, all but adopting them.

Charlie still took up a room in the apartments you and Quackity staid in above the offices. Purpled would come over when things around the country weren't so busy, and you'd talk for hours, Foolish joining in some of the time.

Fundy, on his first night in the city, had broken down to you, the same as Purpled, but you'd helped him put himself together. Though Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo didn't have official places in Las Nevadas, it seemed a chunk of their time was spent there.

Yep, that was your new strange family. You, Your fiancé and the kids but not really young enough to still be kids you accidently adopted.

Now, you reflected on this quietly, from the top of the needle.

"You okay?" Quackity asked softly, looking over at you.

You chuckled softly, "Can you believe that it's been two years?"

"No, can you?"

You shook your head, "You know, I've been thinking. A long time ago, you told me we were better off with out Karl and Sapnap."

He watched silently, as you pulled the other two rings that you had kept, holding them up by the chain they were strung on.

"Maybe- you were right- and maybe it's finally time to get married. Just us. We didn't need them to get here, we won't need them for anything else."

A small smile slipped onto Quackity's lips, "Would you marry me?"

"You already know the answer to that." You chuckled.

"So it's a yes?"

"Obviously." You scoffed.

"When should we have the ceremony then?" He asked.

"Right now," You mused, "We opened that wedding hall for a reason, right? We could get married proper, right now. It's already decorated the way Tubbo originally planed."

He laughed, "Let's do it tomorrow that way we have time to get like, notices out and shit."

You smiled, "Of course."

The sun had begun to set during this discussion, and you looked out over the peaceful landscape with a soft sigh, yes, this, this was home.

And even as you heard Charlie tripping and crashing his way up the stairs, the thought still filled your head.

"Quackity and (y/n) from Las Nevadas!" He exclaimed, "Purpled from Las Nevadas found some people by the border!"

In an instant, both you and Quackity were standing, "What were they doing?"

"Looking around, real weird like. Fundy From Las Nevadas said they might be here to attack us! I hope they aren't."

You followed Quackity past him and back down from the tower, drawing your sword as Charlie called out where he had left Purpled and the mystery people.

What you found was not what you expected.

Purpled stood, sword drawn and pointed at the men you least expected to see now.

Karl looked scared, tucked back behind Sapnap who was moving to draw his own sword.

Not another move!" You barked, moving to stand in line with Purpled.

Karl's face light up upon seeing you, "(y/n)! Quackity! I missed you!"

"Did you?" Quackity spit.

"Sapnap drop your sword." You commanded, not paying attention to the strange look on their faces, no one, and I mean no, pulled a sword on your family.

He frowned, "Wh- (y/n) don't be like that. I get it- but- why..."

"What are your intentions? Why have you come here?" You asked.

"We wanted to find you!" Karl said, "We missed you (y/n)."

"Uhh, that's (y/n) from Las Nevadas to you." Charlie said.

Quackity sighed, grabbing Charlie by the collar and pulling him back, "Sorry- he's been learning sass and sarcasm lately."

"Still, what are you doing here?" You pushed.

"We wanted to find you! You've been gone so long, we thought we'd go looking." Sapnap explained.

"We've been gone?" You scoffed, "You were the ones who disappeared."

Karl moved forward, grabbing your left hand, and Quackity's right, "We just wanted to come back, to finally get married."

You pulled away, slowly sheathing your sword, "You can't be serious?"

"What do you mean?" Karl asked, the smile just beginning to drip off his face.

"You fucking left us- We were just trying to make a place for the four of us to be safe and you left us! And now you want back? Out of the blue?" Your voice steadily grew louder, "You cannot show up here after abandoning us like that!"

Quackity gently took your hand, murmuring, "(y/n)..."

"No. They don't get to do this!" You turned to him, watching his face change upon seeing the mix of anger and sadness in your eyes.

"W- We'll talk about this tomorrow, away from the kids," He asserted, for once not earning any protest about age from Purpled or Fundy, "Charlie, you think you can take these guys on a tour of the place?"

He nodded eagerly, "This way this way!"

As Sapnap, Karl, Purpled and FUndy began to trudge after him, Quackity turned to you, "(y/n)?"

You just shook your head, pulling your hand out of his and starting away.

~~ Purpled had followed the tour party quietly, taking a page from Charlie's book and watching, observing everything.

He had seen the pain in your face at the suggestion of marriage, and the anger in Quackity's just upon seeing them.

So, he followed the men warily, watching the way Karl exclaimed about how he had built an Effile tower just like the one in the city in Manberg, and the way that Sapnap mentioned fondly how the décor at the wedding hall matched the ones you two had always spoken about.

Hearing it nearly drove him mad. Did they not realize that it had all been for them? That dreams of them arriving were the only thing that had ruled Your and Quackity's minds?

When Charlie had directed the group, which by now included some of the other tourists, past one of the bars, he stopped.

Inside, Quackity was slumped at the bar, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

"Drinking away your problems won't solve them." Purpled sighed, pulling the bottle away from him.

"We were doing so good without them. You know that Purp. But here they are, back and ready to fuck things up again. That's how it's always been." He muttered.

The boy shook his head, "They don't realize how destructive they are? Do they?"

"Never have." He sighed.

"Lets get you back home."

Quackity allowed himself to be manhandled into standing, and then led out of the bar, back toward the offices, and toward the apartment.

"(y/n) will figure it out. They always do." Purpled assured him, pulling open the apartment door and ushering him in.

"But they shouldn't have too," He sighed, running a hand through his hair, not bothered by the way his beanie fell to the floor, "They've dealt with so much without help. Yet they're always the ones to help us."

~~

Once he had wrangled Quackity into the bedroom, Purpled headed back out, finding Fundy at the base of the Needle, "They up there?"

"Yeah," The hybrid sighed, "Quackity?"

"Got drunk. He's- painfully coherent though." He winced.

Fundy ran a hand through his hair, "It's hard to believe one of the nicest people around is the one to fuck them up like this."

"Makes perfect sense to me," Purpled said as they began to make their way toward the stairs, "My first night here- I was having a hard time, because- the whole server acted like I didn't exist. (y/n) told me about how Sapnap and Karl had abandoned them."

"Did it seem this bad though?" Fundy asked.

"No- but that was before they turned up again talking about marriage."

By now they had reached the top of the tower, and Purpled could see where you sat by the ledge, feet dangling over. Quietly, they both sat down on either side of you.

"How's Q?" You asked quietly after a moment.

"Drunk, but back at your apartment, well supplied with water." Purpled reported.

You nodded, "And K and- Karl and Sapnap?"

"Waaay to blissfully ignorant." Fundy said.

Quiet held you three in silence for a moment, until at last Purpled sighed, asking, almost bitterly, "So- are you gonna marry them? You were going to once."

"Even if I did it wouldn't change anything here." You mumbled.

"Sapnap was talking about how cool it would be to come back and visit from Kinoko after the honeymoon." Fundy admitted.

Before you could say anything Purpled drew one of his knees to his chest, "I- don't- it feels like they'd be taking you away from us- I like it the way it is. Things are nice, and they're just fucking it up."

Fundy nodded, "As much as I hate to say it, he's right. If you people all get married nothing will be the same. I kind of liked having parental figures, I don't want them messing that up."

"They won't." You promised softly.

By god, if you hadn't already made up your mind, their words would've swayed you.

~~ After a while, you stood, "Let's go home."

They followed you tiredly, Charlie joining the mini procession at one intersection, telling you that Sapnap and Karl had gone to get a hotel room.

At the apartment, Quackity was sitting on the couch, already seeming more sober than Purpled had told you. When you sat next to him, his arms were quick to wrap around you, holding you like a lifeline.

Charlie took his place on the other side of the couch, Purpled curled up in the armchair, and Fundy dug around until he found one of the old projectors he'd left there, queuing up a movie.

"Hey, just like on Nightmare's days!" Charlie laughed, referring to the infamous 16th, where, just about every month it seemed you, Fundy, Quackity and sometime Purpled would have nightmares of the Manburg Pogtopia war, and everyone would congregate in the living room to watch one of Fundy's movies.

"Sure as hell feels like one." Quackity muttered.

And so you watched the movie, though your thoughts drifted, thinking of how you would deal with your reappearing ex-fiancés.

As you thought, you created a mini script in your head. Exactly what you would say came you.

"You didn't need us then, and we don't need you now."

Yes, you thought, leaning more into Quackity's side, thats what you'd say, after you talked about your new family.

(and the next day, you did just that)

[incompleteth0ts]

SeaFam🐚👑

Day 1: Powerful Percy

The cliff under Percy's feet chipped and scratched with every minor movement of Percy's feet. The cliff gave off a seductive sheen crafted from artificial light that didn't exist, at least not this far down under.

If Percy reached far inside him further than he's ever dared to reach, scared of pushing past limits that never actually existed, to begin with, he could feel Styx and her river churning in Hades, further down he could feel the blistering heat of Phlegethon.

Both are powerful bodies of pain and torment. Both own a piece of Percy's soul, and, in turn, he owns a trickle of them.

"What are you doing here?"

Percy turns and welcomes sandy winds and moon lace petals. Calypso stands on the shore in a knee-length toga that molds her waist and is so loose around the top that he can see her dusky nipples and creamy breast with every passing breeze.

Percy slowly turns his back to her, expecting the sea to be at his heels but is only met with the darkness and toxic air.

Not being able to stomach the large vat of emptiness, Percy walks offshore until he's close enough to smell Calypso- taste Calypso and the mint leaves she would chew on as she worked elbow deep in her garden. Her palms are warm and feather-light on his arms, and chin, thumbs sliding over eyelids and ears, but Percy knows better now, far better than his scared, virgin 13-year-old self had known when he first washed ashore. He knew that despite her youthful appearance and wifely hands she was a Titan doomed to live forever forgotten and yearning, and Percy was childish for thinking that he could save her by demanding the Gods let her go.

"What are you doing here, Percy? Should you not be with Annabeth?"

Hearing Calypso speak of Annabeth's name with so much malice reminds him of the curse she had placed upon her two years ago, but it also brought forth memories of rusted metal being held together by trembling self-control and water-soak couches.

But Percy doesn't want to think about water bill damage, and scarfs that smell like a cheap copy of home, but he also doesn't want to think about failed romances and ones that could have worked if he had just stayed.

So he allows Calypso to rub soothing ovals on his cheekbones but falls back into non-existing waves when she needs to stand on the tips of her toes to reach his unresponsive lips for a kiss that he won't give.

Percy had been living with his dad for the past two weeks, who is all too eager about the thought of having his favorite son under his roof and domain and all too quick to remind Percy of his past warnings about Athena and her spawn. 

"They're shells, son," Posideon had whispered the words into his grey strands. Whether he was hiding his presence from his uncle or cousin, he was not sure, allowing artificial net-scared hands to push his bangs back and over his ears in a plastic imitation of a caring father. "They are nothing more than copycat husks of their mother. Made to build, not to love."

A month ago, Percy would have defended the girl he dove into Tartarus for with his very life. But now? All he can do is sob.

Reyna shows up three weeks after Calypso and Percy cowards under her gaze, for she is power and raw strength, clever mind, and golden-tongued. But she's also friends with Annabeth, so he looks around searching for Princess curls and a California tan, but all he sees is eternal darkness and a Roman fountain guarded by Reyna's powerful dogs.

Reyna does not wait for Percy to make up his mind, she takes the initiative stealing what little control Percy could have possibly had over the situation, but even then Percy is still the most dangerous of the two.

He thinks about what he did to misery and her poison and knows that Reyna is nothing compared to her. Extravagant gold dimmed by rusted shadows.

Reyna was his beginning. Something new that nearly caused an end.

He did not love Reyna, but she loved him, and if given a chance, he could have loved her as well. He feels it in the whites of her teeth and the plump of her lips. With a strong jaw and stronger hands, Reyna doesn't speak, which is a good thing because he's afraid that if she did, whatever Circe-like magic that was placed on him would disappear into the gaping canyon.

I can't breathe. Percy thinks.

I don't care. The darkness whispers back

Percy crosses paths with his half-siblings and Stepmother often; after all, it is still their house. They don't treat him with the malice he had expected and prepared for; instead, they stare at him with pity. News travels fast above the surface but it travels even faster below it the only one that seems to not treat him any differently is Tyson, still too young to understand what's going on with his big brother, plus Tyson adores Annabeth and no one wants to break his heart by telling him about what she's done so for now, it becomes Atlanta's worst kept secret.

Posideon introduced the royal family to him in a much more formal light in November. Schedules are never quite aligned until now, and Percy has a feeling that it's more intentional than not. His 'sisters', Rhode, and Kymopoleia are rarely around, but the old sea God doesn't miss out on an opportunity to brag about his history-making daughters. When he speaks of Triton, who has yet to stop glaring at his, baring rows on rows of shark teeth. Their shared father sounds just as proud, which is enough to get Triton to stop burning holes through Percy's frontal lobe.

Percy doesn't point out how stupid it is for Triton to be labeled as heir when Gods don't die.

It's almost painful to listen to his father talk about his wife in such a loving tone of voice because it's the same way he talked about Sally.

And whenever he asks about both Sally and Paul, Percy tries his best to act as if he doesn't notice how he says Paul's name in a similar way.

When Percy falls asleep, he wakes up in a cave. The cave is beautiful. Walls were covered head to toe in various paints, markers, and Sharpe.

The air traveling in and out of the large entranceway is clean, Percy sees sunlight and birds flying across the horizon he does not know if he's in Tartarus or not but won't risk looking outside to see.

When Rachel wraps her arms around him, he all but melts in her arms with her carrying the smell of permanent marker and ginger.

He leans back into her embrace and wants to crawl into her skin. He feels the human blood flowing hot and steamy in her vain, dainty collarbones pressed to the small of his back; he imagines what it'd be like to cause one to burst. To paint a mural out of her blood, to sink his teeth past flesh and bone, to dig a hole in her, and seek shelter inside.

Mortals are fragile creatures, but humans are the most breakable.

But Rachel is sunlight and scrapped knees. She's his most childish love but also the realist and he wishes so terribly that he hadn't gone with Beckendorf that day instead he would have stayed by Rachel's side in the front seats of Paul's Camaro sharing shy kisses until the world eventually ended without his fighting presence.

So he allows this Rachel to pull him to her bed and doesn't fight when his shirt hits the ground and she slips out of her shorts. They lie in bed curled around each other, and Percy feels at ease as they trail lazy and ticklish lines over the stomach and legs, bottoms of feet, and the crook of necks. He allows her to paint the seven seas on his skin, and Percy feels like a normal teenager for the first time in over 7 years.

Happy, healthy, and in love.

When he wakes up, he's informed that a tsunami has hit California.

Nico is silent when he arrives and is just as quiet when he leaves. Even in his dreams, Nico never stops running from him.

Frank and Hazel are welcoming visitors. Percy loves them like a pair of younger siblings now and would die for them as such. Percy is forever grateful that it was Frank and Hazel at the gates that day; if it had been anyone else, he would have gone mad.

Frank is tall now, taller than Percy. He's grown handsome in a way that resembles his war-hungering father. Hazel just barely meets his eyes, hair spun in tights coils, face losing its childish roundness, and flattened out into a firm jaw and a heart-shaped featurs. Hazel was beautiful and together, they could rule a kingdom so Percy allows himself to be sandwiched in their arms and sinks deep into them.

When he wakes up, Percy will plan a trip back to Camp Jupiter, but for now, he just stands in between them as dark hands and calloused palms pull out moans from in-between pink lips.

Silena and Beckendorf are gorgeous. Hair clinging to sweaty backs, muscles flexing under layers of skin, and moans echoing in the bedroom. Percy knows he's in Elysium because there's nearly nowhere else for them to go. His heroes, his friends. Percy gets so distracted by the slope of Silena's breast and the power in Charles's legs that he doesn't notice Luke until he's sobbing into the pillows.

Beckendorf reaches around Silena who doesn't let up her quick-paced hops to grab Luke's choppy hair.

"Come on, Castellan don't tell us you're spent already." Luke doesn't say anything for a while to focus on the others' quick movements, when the question seems to finally process Luke sits up, resting his weight on his outstretched arms and hands.

Silena falls back into her boyfriend's chest where she sucks blood-red bruises into his skin.

"Please. I didn't have a literal Titan living in me only to get tired after a couple of rounds of sex," Percy watched in shock as Luke leaned in to kiss the dark-skinned man. "If anything, worry about Jackson. Poor boy looks like he's about to pass out."

Percy gasps when suddenly all the attention is on him. All three of them stare at Percy as if they've been waiting for him this entire time. Simply keeping the bed warm until he had arrived home.

Percy's out of his clothes and pressed against Silena's chest in an instant. Rain gently hits the glass frames and Percy sobs to its tune. He's missed these three the most, and his body practically begs to be touched by them. To be held, kissed, and fucked slow and deep. To feel small and 12 all over again, because even now they're so much bigger than him and so much more experienced.

He keens when a manicured hand is wrapped around his swollen head and pleads to the Gods above when Luke pulls him into a sloppy kiss that leaves him panting and gasping for air his body no longer needs.

His blood grows hot and the earth shakes.

Somewhere in Hades' castle, the pipes explode.

[everysongineverykey]

Hello you-can-always-come-home,

For the past day or so you have been making your followers cringe with a hypothetical Deltarune MCU adaptation. In front of you is a computer currently displaying your tumblr account. You have 24 hours to write a cringeworthy mcu fandom-esc selfship fanfic with Berdly. Should you fail, your followers will instead fill this fandom ship niche with their own fanfic, almost certainly resulting in something far worse than whatever you could come up with. Will you succumb to the awful awful idea that you have unleashed, or will you finally get a taste of your own medicine? Live or die, the choice is yours.

christ alive. it's done. i really tried to write from the voice of a 13 year old mcu fan back in like 2014 and i really hope it doesn't come off as mocking anyone in particular. anyone who reads this i Promise you this writing style is put on and that i am a better writer than this actually

After the roaring knight turned out to be a personification of the fun gang's insecurities and was defeated by the power of friendship and also Triple Spamvil Neo 5000, the almighty fusion between Spamton and Jevil that had two laser cannon arms instead of one and flossed a lot, the heroes and all their friends decided to live together in Ralsei's castle in Castle town 2.0, a haven for all darkners and Lightners where everyone could live together and be happy since it was made of a different kind of darkness then all the others. Susie and Ralsei were now King and queen (Author's note: can be romantic or platonic depending on what you like best but all im gonna say is i LOVED the scene where he saved her from falling off a cliff and then said "I think you just fell for me" >_<) and Kris was Crown Prince(ss) (Author's note: haven't decided on a gender for Kris yet LOL). They were all roommates and everyone was happy.

Well, except for one person. Berdly, even though he was the reason the gang got out with their lives when he said "It's spammin' time" to summon Triple Spamvil 5000 (a.n: who else LOVED that morbius reference🤣), was still alone, his room in the castle was just a broom closet under the stairs and all he was ever fed was bread crumbs twice a day. Both Susie and Noelle had rejected him even though he was such a nice guy because they said he wasn't their type. Berdly's life in Castle Town 2.0 was TERRIBLE and he wished he had never helped them out at all.

Then one day he met someone who changed his life forever. She was half Darkner, half Lightner due to being born from one of the last Dark fountains to be sealed and her name was (Y/N). She first met Berdly when she was seeing King Ralsei and Queen Susie in the throne room to discuss her new job, the Lightner-Darkner ambassador.

Susie, Ralsei and (Y/N) were walking through the castle halls. "Well (Y/N)" said Ralsei, "I am very glad we got to meet you. It seems like you will be a perfect fit for the job of ambassador."

(Y/N) beamed. "Thank you your majesty. I will do my duty with pride. Being the only Lightner-Darkner hybrid in the world isn't easy, but I know it'll give me a special insight for this job."

Susie yawned loudly. "UGH," she complained, "Ralsei, didja HAVE to drag me along with you to talk to this priss? You know I hate di- di- diplodicus."

"Y-You mean diplomacy." Said Ralsei.

"Ugh, what-EVER," Susie groaned. "If I don't get to break something right now Im gonna explode" She turned suddenly and smashed an expensive vase sitting on a column. (Y/N) and Ralsei jumped back, (Y/N)'s kalidoscope orbs shining with fear.

"S-Susie!" sputtered Ralsei, terrified. "Y-You have to stop breaking vases! They're expensive!"

Susie roared with laughter. "Whatever toothpaste boy. Hey!" She looked around, snapping her fingers. "Where's Nerdly? He'll clean it up for me. Nerdy!"

Berdly came skittering quickly over from around the corner. "Y-Yes your ma-"

He stopped in his tracks, eyes landing on (Y/N). She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. Her striped whitr-and-black hair humg around her shining skin like a halo, and she wore a gorgeous floor-length gown that glittered with every color of the rainbow.

Forget Noelle, this was the first real angel Berdly had ever seen. He suddenly realized hed been staring too long and cleared his throat blushing

"Uh... yes, your majesty?"

Susie motioned to the mess on the floor. "Clean that up. And don't take so long this time, I don't wanna see your ugly face stilll here in half an hour again."

Berdly looked miserably at the broken mess om the floor. "B-But your majesty, you said I could have a day off today-"

"Berdly" Ralsei said sternly. "Listen to your queen."

Berdly sighed sadly and dropped to the floor, and (Y/N) suddenly felt terrible for this boy who seemed like he just wanted to live a nice life in Castle Town.

"Excuse me," she touched his wing and he froze, blushing, "Don't worry about that. I'll clean it up."

She snapped her delicate fingers and in a second, the shards had disappeared. Leaving the floor clean again.

Berdly blinked in surprise. Susie's eyes narrowed. "Aw, c'mon, wheres the fun in that?! He always does the cleaning here! It's fun to watch him suffer!"

Ralsei tried to intervene, "Susie, please-"

"I don't care if you don't like him," (Y/N) challenged the dragon, stepping closer adversarially. "It's wrong to treat anyone this way. He obviously only wants to be friends with you and you're being very unfair."

Susie, not used to being told she's wrong, glared at (Y/N), smoke flowing out of her nostrils. "I'm Queen here!" she yelled. "I should be able to do what I want! Ugh, i'm gonna need some chalk for this" She stormed off, stomping down the hall. Good riddance, (Y/N) thought, though she was too polite to say it out loud.

Ralsei hurried after Susie meekly. "S-Susie, calm down-" Leaving (Y/N) and Berdly alone in the hall.

Berdly couldn't believe what had just happened. Someone had stood up for him! Someone cares how he feels! No one not even Noelle had ever tried to challenge the way he was treated ever since he moved to Castle Town 2.0 and now this gorgeous girl was leaning down and smiling at him.

"Are you alright?" She asked kindly, holding out her hand for him to take. "I'm sorry that happened. What's your name?"

"B-Berdly," he stammered taking her hand and quickly getting to his feet. "W-Who are you? I've never seen anyone like you before."

She blushed at that, and Berdly's heart skipped a beat. Her orbs turned bright pink, the color of happiness... and love?

"(Y/N)," she said quickly. "I'm the new darkner Lightner ambassador. Please to meet you Berdly!" Her face turned sad all of a sudden. "Do they... all treat you like that?"

Berdly's blue orbs turned dark with sadness as he looked down, muttering "Ever since I moved here. I helped them defeat the Roaring Knight too. And yet even my old friends seem to hate me now..."

"That's so sad!" (Y/N)'s eyes turned a deep blue to show her sorrow. "I'm sorry Berdly. You don't deserve this."

Berdly blushed again, shrugging. "Not much i can do"

Suddenly, (Y/N) reached out and took his hand, something that no one had done in a long time "Well I'm going to do something about it. Mark my words Berdly, no one'll treat you like a slave again as long as I'm here. Now, tell me about yourself."

She took his wing and they set off down the hall, walking and talking and laughing and Berdly could feel that this girl was going to change his life.

fucking. there. chapter one of The Reason I Should Not Have Internet. chapter 2 coming never because i've done enough

[sapientiiae]

Chills pulsed down her spine as a silence lingered between the two — the Princess of Hyrule waiting for her answer. The world almost seemed to twist and vibrate around him. The lack of pointed ears proved he was not Hylian or Sheikah, and quite frankly he didn’t look like any of the other races she’d seen in Hyrule. There was always the humans, but there were far too many details to this man to prove that he was not an average, non-magic wielding human.

So what was he? Who was he?

She watches as his gaze shifts to the fountain, something about it seeming to catch his attention before he finally decides to speak, his eyes slowly sliding their way back to her — his stare practically boring through her. The royal was not easily made to feel uncomfortable, but there was something about that stare that made her want to squirm beneath it.

‘Run…why are you not running?’

She ignored that paranoid voice in her head, swallowing as she did her best to refrain from letting her own gaze slip from his. He speaks of time, and she feels that same shiver from before course down her spine once again. “It is my duty to know the history of Hyrule as its ruler,” she answers, voice surprisingly steady despite the way her stomach twisted in knots. She’d studied the history of Hyrule since she was a young girl — even Ganondorf’s temporary rule over the kingdom hadn’t been enough to keep her from her education, always needing to learn more to better understand what was required of her.

But she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been a participant in the convergence of time. She was the one that had chosen to send Link back to the past after his mission for Hyrule was complete — wanting him to warn those of the past of Ganondorf’s true intentions to save Hyrule from a dark history that would require restoration but to also give Link a chance at the childhood he’d been robbed of.

And every day she’d wondered if doing so had been the right decision. Time was a tricky thing, not to be messed with. She’d known that as an adult, but it was already too late — the cards were in play. 

“You call yourself its caretaker—“ she starts, squinting through the darkness at the silverette. “Who are you?”

Should, the guards come running and shouting and waving their pointy swords or sticks about – they wouldn’t see him. The man who looked so out of place, as if reality itself was bending to his very whim. Yet Zelda could see him – and one had to wonder: why. Why did the Princess ( or was it Queen now? He never really paid much mind to how the timelines seemed to shift and fade, but it was a pain to tell the difference at times. ) see such a man, and no one else?

Undertaker, as he was going by in this world. Azrael, known to many as others entirely, eased off of his spot on the fountain. A curious look to the statue, the off-kilter smile fading as he stared at it. The three triangles, three goddesses. Three lives he had met all too briefly before they left to do as they must.

“Plenty of them, but there is… one I am interested in.” The man said finally, turning his chartreuse green eyes, ringed with phosphorus yellow from the fountain piece to pierce Zelda with his own. “This world seems to have a convergence of time, and as its caretaker; I have come to investigate it. How familiar are you with the history before your kingdom?”

[bokettochild]

Violet

So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?

I wrote a thing based off of it.

I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...

Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.

There are many things you do not do in Castletown.

One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.

He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!

They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.

It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?

Maybe it was because they were split.

It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.

True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.

In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.

That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.

He made small talk.

It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.

“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.

“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”

Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.

Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.

Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.

Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?

What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.

Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.

Bravo, Rancher, bravo.

“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”

“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.

Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.

They needed a distraction, fast.

So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”

His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”

Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.

Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.

Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.

“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”

Woman?!?!?!

“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”

Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?

A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.

“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.

Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”

The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?

“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.

“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.

“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.

People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.

“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.

“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”

The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.

“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.

“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”

“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.” Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”

And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”

Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.

Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.

“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”

It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.

“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”

Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.

He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.

“They thought we were married....”

Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”

“Yeah.”

"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.

Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.