#and because the money is really good he would say

[erinwantstowrite]

Dick and Tim would be REALLY good on reality tv,,, they're both charismatic (please do not forget that Tim makes friends/allies easily just like Dick can), handsome, CLEVER, and know how to play to a persona. i think they'd go on shows for fun and to de-stress. like one too many things piss them off in their daily lives and they could pretty much get a vacation from it just to go on these shows. no one in the family can talk to them and they get to annoy people, crack jokes, and get fun puzzles in the form of a literal puzzle or figuring out social dynamics of the other players.

sometimes they go on shows by themselves but mostly use it as a brotherly bonding activity. if it's a show where they can be a duo they're GOING to do it. and they're going in to play to a storyline, not to win. they don't need the money, they don't need the publicity, they just want to have fun. sometimes if they figure out that everyone on the show sucks and they get competitive, they'll win. but mostly their goal is "how can we make the funniest plot line look the most natural." or something like that. i know a producer LOVES to see them coming. i bet EVERYONE tunes in when they're on a show because they're fucking hilarious even if half of what they say are inside jokes. the rest of the family watches and they KNOW what those shits are pulling, they have betting pools where they guess what the two are gonna do next, they're the FIRST to make memes for both internet and for the family group chats.

one time they convinced Bruce to go (it's been many a years since he really had to play up the Brucie role, cause he's a dad now and the older he gets the more people expect him to mellow out, and even back when he was full Brucie, reality TV wasn't his thing). it was one of those survival based shows where you come is as a team and try to win together. Bruce got lost in the woods after going on a hike. The camera men literally lost him and Tim and Dick were playing it up for the camera. Dick cried and invited the other teams to a funeral. Tim had a speech that was basically "I think he's fine but this is my perfect opportunity to embarrass my dad with stories." The producers were like "we fucking killed Bruce Wayne oh my fucking god" and Bruce shows up at the funeral like "oh what a beautiful service my boys are so great." They won by pure luck and circumstances and they were actively TRYING to lose that game. They were gobsmacked at the end and everyone uses the moment they looked at each other in confusion and shock as reaction gifs

[luveline]

Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k

He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk. 

Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert. 

You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become. 

Behind you are two female classmates. 

Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by. 

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise. 

The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn. 

Hotch steps in. 

“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”

The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.” 

“About what?” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says. 

There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.” 

“Then you have no reason to stay.” 

You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”

“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you. 

Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.” 

Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave. 

“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors. 

“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated. 

“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range. 

“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“What?” 

“They do it to me every time I’m here.” 

“They do?” 

You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.” 

“Why would they think that?” 

“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.” 

Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?” 

“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly. 

He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.” 

You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.” 

You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.” 

“I’ll use that one, too.” 

He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.” 

“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask. 

“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say. 

He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.” 

He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily. 

“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually. 

He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”

“He took great care of me.” 

The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes). 

“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.” 

“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream. 

“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”

“Aaron, he’s five.” 

“He’s six,” he corrects. 

“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.” 

“Then tell me about it, at least.” 

“You saw the most of it.” 

He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal. 

Your situation is not the same. 

“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again. 

“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.” 

He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.” 

You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble. 

[goodlucktai]

9, raph and leo?

dialogue prompts

9. “I know, I know it hurts.”

x

When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father. 

The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab. 

It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill. 

While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face. 

“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”

Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics. 

At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”

Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things. 

A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky. 

Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard. 

All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine. 

Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again. 

But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression. 

They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed. 

It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going. 

“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up. 

There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.  

——

“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day. 

There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.

But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is. 

“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”

There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold. 

To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty. 

“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”

He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks. 

Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.

Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to. 

And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam. 

He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat. 

His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack. 

“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize. 

His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it. 

“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side. 

Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there,  but Leo all but runs to meet him. 

A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old. 

“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false. 

“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose. 

Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding. 

He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.  

“Problem?”

“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”

“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently. 

Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on. 

And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.

When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”

Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces. 

“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says. “Just a difference of opinion.” 

“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen until I say so,” Raph adds sternly. 

Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”

“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”

Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away. 

“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat. 

“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!” 

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it. 

He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen? 

It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if. 

——

After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway. 

“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands. 

There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer. 

“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.” 

Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again. 

“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”

Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer. 

“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.” 

Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time. 

“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”

Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick. 

“Leo—”

“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”

This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that. 

He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then. 

“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore. 

It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refused to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him. 

“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”

He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of nothing, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second. 

But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything. 

“What word?” he finally says. 

“You pick,” Raph tells him. 

A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground. 

“‘Goose’,” he suggests. Raph lifts his good arm and drags him into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. His little brother scrambles to return the hug, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much. 

Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac. 

“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”

The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore. 

“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D campaign on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”

A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh. 

“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”

“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on. 

It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all. 

He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him. 

“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”

Raph’s listening this time. 

[apomaro-mellow]

Two in the Bush 2

Part 1

Steve called them both separately and arranged a meet up at Benny’s. As the hour drew closer, he felt himself getting more nervous. He had only wanted a baby. He didn’t really care about the alpha who would give him said baby. They were an afterthought. And really, neither Billy nor Eddie seemed like strong father figures, he had to admit. Both were rough around the edges in different ways.

Billy was more aggressive, which made for great sex but nothing about him seemed paternal. The few times they talked about their lives, it was clear to Steve that his own father had been lacking. And the same could be said about Eddie, who was as impulsive as he was flighty. He was definitely the more romantic of the two but that wasn’t saying much.

His relationship with both was mostly physical. He’d never even brought up pups because who would mention that desire to a fuck buddy that they’d known for less than a year?

Best case scenario, neither of them wanted anything to do with it and Steve would be able to freely raise his pup with Robin’s help. He didn’t feel the need for a DNA test, the two alphas looked so different, Steve was sure he’d be able to eventually tell who the father was.

But telling two bullheaded men that one of them had fathered your child could be…Steve was going to use the word interesting. He didn’t think either of them wanted to raise a kid. But their alpha instincts might see the other as a competitor. Nevermind the fact that this was never exclusive. 

Steve got to Benny’s early, ready to mediate. Robin offered to be there as well, but Steve wanted it to start just between the three of them. Steve got a booth and just about ten minutes later, both Eddie and Billy arrived at the same time. Steve hid his smile behind the glass of juice he drank. It was almost like they had coordinated outfits. Billy wore leather pants and a denim jacket, while Eddie had a leather jacket and jeans.

They both stared at each other, then walked to the booth where Steve sat.

“Is this some kind of set up?”, Billy accused.

“Just sit, the both of you”, Steve said, pointing to the space across from him.

They took a moment to glare at each other before doing just that. Steve took a breath as a waitress came by to take their orders now that the whole party was here. He’d joked with Robin about getting them to pay for his meal, but now he felt too anxious. His stomach was twisted into knots. 

“I called you both here today because-”

“Wait, wait, wait, the first thing you should be doing is introducing us”, Eddie said. “I don’t even know who this guy is, or why we’re sitting on the same side.”

Billy looked Eddie up and down. “If this is your way of asking for a threesome, sorry to say, I don’t fuck alphas.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Billy this is Eddie, Eddie, this is Billy.”

“Okay”, Eddie frowned at Billy. “I second the ‘no threesome thing’.”

“Do you really think that’s why I invited you to a diner?”, Steve looked at them, incredulous.

“So if this isn’t a booty call then what is it, Harrington?”, Billy asked.

Well, here goes nothing. “I’m pregnant.”

…

“And one of you might be the father.”

….

“Um-”

“So you’re trying to baby trap us, is that it? What happened to keeping it casual?”, Billy’s scent was already starting to stink up the booth.

“Baby trapping implies I wanted to trap either of you”, Steve frowned. “I don’t see good fathers sitting across from me right now.”

“Ouch. Harsh”, Eddie said.

“Yeah, well, it’s the truth.” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m only telling you because I think you have a right to know. But I don’t need help raising this baby.”

“So you’re keeping it?”, Billy asked.

“Yes, I’m keeping.”

“Hey, just asking, it’s the twenty-first century. You’re not required to go through with it anymore”, Billy said with his hands up.

“Well I want to. I’ve always wanted to”, Steve admitted. “I’m keeping my pup and raising them and I don’t need anything from either of you. Not money or involvement or anything.”

“Shucks, it sounds like you don’t think we’re even capable”, Eddie said. “I think I’m starting to feel offended, what about you, Blondie?”

“Billy. And it doesn’t just sound like he thinks we’re incapable. Sounds like he thinks we’d be shit dads.”

“Hey, I make judgments based on what I see.”

“And you’ve only seen our dicks”, Eddie challenged. “We could be smash hits when it comes to being dads and you’d have no idea.”

“I can handle a bachelorette party of twenty, I could probably handle a kid”, Billy said, nonchalant now.

“A pup’s a hell of a lot different from mixing some drinks. OR fixing up a car”, Steve said before Eddie could retort.

“I wasn’t going to say that”, Eddie argued. “I was going to say that being a mechanic shows how patient and nurturing I can be.”

“Patient and nurturing? You?”, Steve raised a brow.

“Yeah!”

“I’ve literally seen you curse out that one kid at your job.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Dustin’s in college, he’s hardly a kid.”

“Either way, neither of you are ready for this”, Steve said.

“And you don’t think we could be ready in nine months?”, Billy asked.

Eddie grinned. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Do you guys even want to raise this pup with me? What if it’s not even yours?”, Steve asked.

Eddie smirked at Steve, then Billy. “I mean, it’s a 50-50 chance, right?”

“Right”, Billy said.

And then they fist bumped each other and Steve just now realized he had lost control of the conversation. He didn’t know if he was mad or happy at the conclusion they’d come to. More than anything, he was just confused. When he got home, Robin was there, ready to dish.

“So how’d the baby daddy react?”

“Daddies?”

“Huh?”

“Daddies, Robin. I have two baby daddies.”

[misasimagines]

this isn't well written or anything I'm just. I'm Desperate to get Ren out of my head he's been living here rent free and I NEED to switch into Taiga mode to write that request so. Please enjoy structureless Ren rambles. He doesn't come off as character with Much Nuance (like some others, Rui!! Jin, Subaru, Haku, etc) but like. When he's been sitting in your head for the past 14 business days....things unravel.

I'm not like citing sources here. This is pure vibes. Please don't crucify me if I got smth wrong 🙏

So he has a Thing about the ocean. He watches horrors movies related to it, he seems especially grossed out by it, but he doesn't seem like he's never had experience with it. Which is why I just can't not think he came from a small, coastal town (like from Aquamarine lmao). The kind that has a Barrage of tourists in the summer and over holidays and he Hated it because now he can't just go anywhere without risking being in the background of someone's vacation pictures. And I also can't help but feel like he probably had a parent/parents who parentified him, probably not maliciously, but they still did it. Like two immature parents or one immature parent and one completely absent one, so when it came to actually being responsible about things, he had no choice but to step in. Which is why he's so annoyed by and against hard work- he's done enough of it and he doesn't want to keep getting involved when he now doesn't feel the responsibility to. He probably feels a lot of resentment towards them for what he had to take on. Whether he feels bad about that resentment or not, I can't say.

He doesn't like messes or the animals in Jabberwock. He doesn't want to have to care for anything besides himself. Haru might remind him of his family which is why he's so hostile towards him. Because like Notably, Ren isn't BAD at hard work. He does go to classes, does missions, has a job at the diner, and still has to help around Jabberwock no matter how much he tries to avoid it. He's even dedicated to his mobile games, which seems silly, but those require a lot of routine daily to keep up and it seems like he has a few he keeps up with! And if we consider the Jabberwock chapter, even though he was against Calamari and resented taking care of it, he still did and he still felt guilty when he didn't do a good job at it, so much so that he ran off to the beach to try to revive the poor thing. Not the actions of someone who truly is selfish and doesn't care. Him carrying Haru to safety too- yes, leaving him to die would have been really. Kind of reprehensible but he carried the guy and rejected any kind of thanks and appreciation for it. He could have used that as guilt-leverage to try to get out of things later but...did he? Not as far as I know.

Like he does all of that no matter how much he complains. Also, who ELSE has a campus job? I'll wait. 🥱. Sho doesn't count, the food truck is a passion project. Even BROKE ASS Kaito doesn't have a campus job. Why is Ren working? Does he NEED the money or does he feel some kind of compulsion to make it for some reason? Because he's responsible? Because he sends it back home? Because he wants to have money for post Darkwick life? Who knows!!!!! He got that job like INSTANTLY bro enrolled and got that work study like the first damn week.

And this is way less in the realm of Theory Crafting and conspiracy and more just a pure hc but I just feel like maybe his hostility towards other people, the MC included, is because he might be dealing with the aftermath of a damaged or lost relationship. Not exclusively romantic but like possibly? Like if he grew up in a small town, he probably knew the people around him from childhood to adulthood. And it's not unlikely that he had a childhood friend that stuck through all the years with him. And it's not unlikely that, if they were friends that long, that people would start making jokes and suggestions about them ending up together long term. And! It's not unlikely that! He felt some kind of pressure to at least pretend to reciprocate feelings towards them. So maybe a close friendship became a relationship and maybe he did have feelings for them and maybe he didn't or just wasn't ready for them. Either way, now he's in Darkwick and given how unhappy he is, it doesn't seem like it was his first choice to be there. Is he running away? Does he not have a home to go back to (either self imposed or true exile)? I just. I have questions.

Please someone ramble with me I'm going crazy here. I'm like God I'd kill this guy [thinking about making out with him sloppy style]. Hate him truly he's so annoying I'd argue with him every day. What if this were us

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Idea for a childhood friends AU:

so it's a dark and stormy and gloomy day a couple months after Stede's birthday, and tonight his father finally agreed to drop him off at Walmart after school so he can spend his birthday money. He always gets just money for his birthday, and he feels guilty for feeling a bit sad about it, because he knows he should be happy that his father just handed him like five hundred dollars, but he just really wants to have someone care enough to wrap a present for him and pick out something he'd like. It just feels like his parents throwing money at him to fix the problem again (the problem is him).

So Stede wanders around the store, and he knows it'll be late before anyone comes back to pick him up, and his father sent along some money so he can grab lunch at the restaurant further down in the shopping center. His father, who has no grip at all on the reality of how much things cost, has sent easily triple what he'd ever need to get himself dinner, so he's planning on using the leftovers to buy just, like, a ton of chocolate. And Stede figures he'll spend his birthday money on a new video game system or something, and when he gets to the game aisle, there's another kid standing there.

Ed took the bus here after school to buy that week's groceries. It's always a bit of a bummer, because his mama says to only get exactly what's on the list for that week so they don't run out of food stamps by the end of the month, and Ed has to look longingly at other kids getting snacks and candy and know he can't have any. They've never been able to jump through the right hoops to get an amount of money in food stamps that would actually really help, Ed's dad makes just too much and no one cares that he spends his entire paycheck down at the pub. Ed keeps track of how much they've got left to spend in his mind, and tonight, he's had to leave off some of the items on his mama's list because he knows how to make these calculations and he knows the cheap boxes of spaghetti will get them a lot further than the dinosaur nuggets she put on there just so he can have something fun. He lives close to the store, it's an easy walk, but he hates having to carry everything back himself so he likes to waste some time in the video games aisle just looking, and imagining what it would be like to get a new game for his birthday when he knows good and damn well his birthday present will always be a trip to the local pizza buffet and two dollars for the arcade games.

so when Stede rounds the corner to see this kid a bit younger than him staring longingly at the latest NES games, all he can think about is how much he wishes he had someone to play with.

And the thing is: Stede has more money in his pockets than he could ever spend, and his parents don't know how much things cost, and this kid is standing there shivering in just a baggy t-shirt and jeans that someone has ironed to make them seem nicer than they are even though they're scuffed to hell and back, and all he can think is man, you look lonely, and I'm real lonely, too.

They get to chatting, and they come up with a brilliant plan. Stede buys a new NES and a couple games, and they're going to keep it at Ed's house so they can play together. They don't know it, not yet, but they're going to have a couple Super Mario-themed decorations at their wedding, because that game was their very favorite. And Stede maybe knows enough about the world already to know he can't just offer to buy Ed a new jacket, they barely know each other and he doesn't want to embarrass his new friend, but he's going to "accidentally" pay for the food Ed's getting, too, not to mention all the fun snack food and candy Ed helps him pick out.

Stede's going to wind up staying for dinner at Ed's house that night, and it'll be the best meal he's ever had, and when they're done playing games Stede's going to "accidentally" leave his jacket on Ed's bed. There's not a time after this that Stede won't accompany Ed on grocery runs, and he's going to make sure Ed and his mama mysteriously always find their pantry full despite the food stamp tally not budging. Ed's going to get to go on two trips to the pizza buffet every year, because his mama treats Stede to one, too, and Stede's going to help Ed apply for a scholarship to the fancy school he goes to across town. They're even, he says, because Ed always lets him check his homework for the right answers.

Just two kids helping each other out in whatever ways they can, and not really knowing when they first meet that neither of them are ever going to go without a friend, not ever again.

[blessedbygookim]

The Queen Of Busan.

Part one: the meeting.

Part two: defeated.

Part three: forgiveness.

Here it is, the final part. I prolonged this for so long it’s unbelievable. I hope it’s good enough. 🫶🏻

Just an FYI, the quote at the end is an existing one, I felt like it fit into the story.

Three whole years have passed since then.

They're both nineteen now, going on twenty.

Three sets of summers, winters, springs and falls, and since then many things have happened.

They got trained by Tom Lee, getting stronger than they were before. The Four Crews were up and running. Big Deal is still under Jake Kim's excellent leadership, the Workers are led by Eugene, Hostel by Eli Jang, and the one and only God Dog, Johan Seong.

In the meantime both Gun and Goo did their own things on the sidelines. Goo collecting Secret Friends, and Gun finding a potential successor, aka Daniel Park.

One thing still hasn't changed. Since everything that has perspired with Nova three years ago in Busan, they haven't stepped a foot in the city ever since.

As several years go by, Gun, though he has grown in strength and ability, still feels that lingering sense of fear at the thought of being overpowered so easily and utterly. Every now and then, his mind drifts back to that day... wondering how she is doing.

Not for the sole reason that he cares oh so much about anyone else other than himself, he was just...curious.

He was doing well for himself now, but the memory still lingered... no, it gnawed at him. He felt like him calling himself the greatest and strongest was nothing now but a painful mockery of him trying to mask the undeniable truth with delusions.

Also, the act of seeking vengeance lingered on his mind.

Lingered, but never solidified.

Why should he...? Would the outcome be different? He did get stronger, so did Joongoo since they have fought in the meantime but... it still wasn't something he was willing to fuck around with and find out.

More so because deep down he knows it would be futile.

Since logically speaking; if they themselves got stronger, who's to say something along those lines hasn't happened to her? If she was so strong three years ago, who knows what kind of power she has transcended above since then? It was a little gut wrenching.

But that's not the only thing that makes it gut wrenching for him. The fact that the both of them still fear her so much even though they're so much stronger, that feeling of dread is what really gets him.

It was almost embarrassing how much they feared her.

Scratch that, it is embarassing.

How powerless and small they felt in her presence. Even if they had grown, it didn't mean much when they didn't know just how much stronger she may have become.

Goo still has that piece of blade, still stained with her dried blood on the surface. He didn't know why he kept it, perhaps because it held his biggest insecurity, a secret of their defeat, the only proof of that night.

An additional scar Gun has gained on his back, a long scar right across his spine, which he would rather have than have gotten his eyes plucked out. And, a scar of a once gaping hole right below Goo's collar bone, tainting his once pristine skin.

"I wonder if we should be ballsy enough to seek revenge in the near future..."

Goo ponders out loud as he lays on his luxury couch, counting the bills of the vast sum of money they have collected today, while Gun is smoking a cigarette a few feet away.

He lets out a bitter scoff at his comment, a bitter scoff that's quickly followed by an equally if not more bitter sounding chuckle, that has an almost ironic undertone. He shakes his head at the idea, the thought that they would attempt to get revenge on her being almost laughable to him.

“That woman is a freak of nature. We'd be lucky to get out with our lives... if we didn't end up maimed."

"Yeah... probably..."

Goo responds, letting out a sigh as he stuffs a good amount of bills into his Supreme bill gun.

"How about this? If you're that hellbent on getting revenge, why don't you be the first one to go seek her out? I'll watch from a safe distance... maybe I'll even film some of it to put on Youtube."

As Gun spoke that last sentence, a subtle but malicious chuckle could be heard in his voice, a clear note of mockery and humor present in the way he spoke.

"You're so funny."

Goo deadpans with a roll of his eyes, pulling the trigger of the bill gun. Even the 10000 worth of korean won bills can't suppress his inner turmoil at the moment, which said a lot since he came to love money so much.

"Mhm, yeah, just like I thought."

Gun chuckles again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gazes at his friend with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Still pissing your pants over that girl from three years ago, huh? Damn. You're a coward."

"Oh fuck you, that's so hypocritical coming from someone who feels the same way!"

He throws back immediately, eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance.

Until his head falls back against the armrest of the couch, a sigh leaving his lips.

"...do you think she also thinks about us till this day?.. I did leave her a pretty hefty stab wound all those years ago..."

Gun can't help but chuckle once again at his comment, a slight malicious glint appearing in his eyes.

"Oh, really? You think she would care about some tiny flesh wound you gave her, that she didn't even bat an eye at? If anything, I bet she doesn't even remember us. You think she'd remember a couple of weaklings she beat in only a minute?"

"This is the first time I'm hearing you call yourself weak in a good while..."

Goo chuckles a little, gathering the bills off of his body.

"She really did shake off a blade piercing right through her... and walked more into it...and stabbed through my body with her own hand... it still haunts me in my dreams."

Goo ponders as he recalls the events, his arm falling beside him off the couch with the bill gun.

"...I feel so pathetic every time I look back on that night. We were utterly defeated. Completely overwhelmed. And then she had the audacity to offer us mercy. It makes my blood burn just thinking about it. Such a pity, such a kindness, aimed at such weak people who couldn't even beat her."

Gun's eyes narrow as he thinks more and more about that night, as the memory continues to flood in and torment him.

Meanwhile the blonde aims his bill gun his way and shoots some bills towards his companion.

"But if you really think about it and put your narcissism aside, she really just defended what she has built up. She was overprotective, and of course didn't let bastards like us take that away from her."

When the bills came flying at him, Gun didn't even look at them as they bounced off his chest and fell onto the floor. He was more focused on Goo, and the way he was attempting to defend that psychopath.

"Defend? You really think she was 'defending'? That was nothing more than a show of domination. Overprotective? Please. Her strength and power is something that should be considered illegal. The fact she had the nerve to offer us mercy afterwards, like we were some pitiful creatures that could be easily squashed, it makes my blood boil when I think of it. Who the hell does she think she is, being so damn generous?"

Gun continues to scoff and chuckle bitterly as he continues to smoke his cigarette, taking slow, deliberate puffs and exhales.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, White Ghost. If you weren't so emotionally detached you would understand her point of view. I do as well even though it's embarrassing to think back to how easily she handled us..."

Goo retorts with an exasperated tone, accidentally dropping the bill gun on his face.

"Ouch..."

"Do you think if she has since found it in her heart to forgive us...? Because if you think about it logically, we just did what Charles instructed us to do without another thought."

Goo suggests, another slight shrug of his shoulders, lips pursed, rubbing his forehead where the gun hit him.

"Forgive us? Hmph, fat chance. Even if she claims to forgive us or whatever bullshit she spouts, she's probably just saying that so we can live in a constant state of paranoia."

Gun pauses, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"I don't know if we should be bold enough to fuck around and find out though..."

Goo mutters out, tossing the bill gun away.

"We've both grown so much since that day, but there's no telling what kind of evolution she went through in the past three years. Last thing I want to do is bring that kind of trauma back upon myself...then again I can't help but be curious."

"Yeah, I agree with you there. Even if we've grown, there's still no damn way to know how strong she could have become, especially with that unnatural durability of hers. I can't believe she humiliated us when I have my Ultra Instinct..."

As he talks, Gun takes yet another drag from his cigarette.

"Do you think me still keeping that blade brings some sort of bad omen to us?"

Goo throws out another question, tearing Gun away from his spiraling train of thoughts.

They have to do something about the trauma and the fear of that whole encounter, if they can't let go of it in any other way, they have to do SOMETHING. Goo can't help himself but wholeheartedly believe it is some sort of bad charm, still having kept that blade of his.

Gun hesitates for a moment before answering, his expression becoming slightly confused, he wasn't one to believe in such things.

Yet-

"Honestly... it sounds stupid, but yeah. It probably does. I mean, just because it's a blade doesn't necessarily mean it's bad luck, but still... the fact that neither of us threw that blade away kind of gives me a bad feeling. It's like a constant physical reminder of that day, like a curse."

He responds back to Goo's question, this was what he had in mind already.

"I think the first step we need to take to get over this and move on from it is to get rid of the blade."

"...but it's a titanium wielded blade..."

Goo pouts once again.

Of course that is his biggest concern.

"Even if we destroy it, both yours and my scar will remain, and so will her pure existence... and who says we won't run into her? She's all over the country anyway, all the time..."

He reasons.

"Yeah, you're right. Even if we destroy the blade, scars don't go away so easily, and the trauma still remains. And the chances of us running into her are very high, too high for my liking..."

Gun sighs out as well, he's growing frustrated at the difficult situation they find themselves in. No matter how hard they try it seems that they'll never be able to forget this memory of her.

"How about this?.."

Goo the blonde exclaims softly, it was like a visible lightbulb went off above his head.

"We stop being pussies, we throw our ego aside, and seek her out to apologize to her face to face."

Silence.

Gun, his face contorts into pure confusion and, disgust.

Goo on the other hand, looks like someone who just invented something miraculos, like water powered engines.

By the slight twitch of Gun's eye, the blonde standing like Superman almost also ended up like said guy who came up with said invention if he didn’t restrain himself.

Erased from the face of the Earth.

"What?.. Are you insane? That has to be the dumbest idea you've ever had in your life. And you have a lot of dumb ideas."

Gun retorts finally, his brow knits together as he stares at Goo with an expression that's a mixture of shock and disbelief. He can't believe the very idea of seeking out Nova, especially doing so to apologize faces-to-face is even being suggested.

Who does this guy think he is?

"Do you seriously think she'd accept our apologies? You really think she'd just forgive us and move on? That sounds like an absolutely moronic idea."

"...at least we can attempt to do so... forgiveness is up to her to be honest..."

Goo shrugs again, voice softening a little as his posture softens with it.

"...and maybe if it works out well, we can gradually start moving on as well."

Now, Gun really had to think this through.

Gamble a little, in ways it would benefit him.

"Tch.... Fine, if you say so. We better hope that she'll listen to us when we try to apologize. I sincerely hope this idea of yours is worth our time..."

Gun relents, knowing that Goo can be quite persuasive at times anyway. He's still highly skeptical, but he trusts Goo and knows that he means well.

If it benefits himself as well of course.

"Alright..."

Goo utters out, falling back on the couch.

"Should we just then... travel to Busan first thing tomorrow and look for her in that same restaurant we met her all those years ago...?"

Gun nods, although still wary about the whole idea.

"Yeah, that's probably the best course of action. Let's take the first flight to Busan tomorrow and see if we can find her. If we're lucky, she might even be in that same restaurant we met her in all those years ago."

He pauses for a moment before continuing, an annoyed look on his face.

"But if it turns out your idea was shit, I will bury you somewhere.."

Tomorrow came faster than usual, perhaps to both their dismay. Neither of the really slept too much, the anxiety was keeping them up wide awake.

"My anxiety is so bad, I couldn't stop taking a shit every hour or so this morning..."

Goo and his usual TMI, accompanied by a huge yawn.

Gun rolls his eyes in annoyance at his excessive information about his bodily functions.

Why did he need to know that.

"Gross. Do you really need to share all that with me? I don't want to hear the details of your bathroom business."

His tone of voice is stern and serious, but the way he speaks suggests that he's not completely mad at him. He's actually a little bit amused by his friend's carefree nature, but he'd never admit it.

He also didn't understand why Joongoo had to wear such an obnoxious looking designer outfit either.

Proof that money can't buy style and taste.

He himself is still wearing the same old black outfit he is usually seen with, the man is nothing if not very consistent. He stares at the blonde's outfit for a bit...

Tacky.

Draws hell of a lot attention to themselves. More than Gun would like.

At first he doesn't say anything while walking down the street.

This man looks like he's going to a fashion show for rich people or something.

Then, he looks at Goo again and decides to break the silence.

"Are you seriously going through this whole ordeal wearing those gaudy clothes?"

He shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes scanning his flashy outfit.

"You look like a walking advertisement for bad taste, you know that?"

"I don't remember asking for your opinion!"

Goo retorts in a childish manner, the same verbal skirmish they usually engage in.

"Also, I need to look good just in case she kills us today. I refuse to die looking raggedy."

"Pfft, as if looking good is gonna save us from death...If she wants us dead, we're dead. And honestly, you'd still look pretty damn raggedy wearing those flashy clothes. They don't exactly scream 'good taste' to me."

"You just have zero taste!"

"Thank God, then."

Not long after arriving at the front of that same restaurant, and the same spot they got their asses whopped all those years ago is nothing more than haunting.

"I think I'm gonna shit myself..."

Goo mutters out with an uncomfortable scowl, earning a disgusted look from his partner.

"What the fuck."

"God, you're ridiculous. How old are you again?"

He mutters under his breath the same time as a loud, nervous gulp coming from his friend.

"Look, let's just get this over with. The faster we apologize, the faster we can get out of here. Even if it doesn't go well, at least we tried."

"... I think Imma throw up..."

Goo responds with some fake gagging noises, being overdramatic as usual.

Gun can't help but to roll his white irises under the sunglasses, and takes a firm hold of Goo's upper arm to drag him into the reception area of the restaurant.

Safe to say the receptionist recognized them in a heartbeat.

Who couldn't?

He gives them a double-take, then a triple take-

There is no such thing as a calm, peaceful day in the life of someone working such field.

Well, this is what he gets paid for so.. he just lets out a sigh.

He already knew what they wanted, they didn't even have to say anything. So, he leads them direrctly to her.

Of course she'd be here today of all days, it was almost like she knew they'd come.

"I think I just shit my pants..."

Comes the uncomfortable sounding mutter from the blonde, and Gun only rolls his eyes again.

What is it with him and his bowel movements today..

"Would you shut up? It's gonna be fine, stop worrying so much. At least wait until we actually speak to her first before you start shitting yourself."

Gun mutters back, equally as uncomfortable but trying to maintain his usual demeanor.

"You're not helping..."

Goo speaks from behind him again, sucking his teeth as they keep walking.

He didn't even bother to utter a response to that this time.

Arriving shortly after at that same table, they both stand with their backs straight. Everything feels the same as of yet, except that they could now feel her overwhelming presence from practically a few feet away, the waiter blocking their view as he talks to her, but they couldn't hear the conversation from the position they were standing in. Gun has an expression of neutrality right now, he refuses to acknowledge the tension and anxiety he's feeling deep down, he's trying to act as calm as he can right now, not like Goo who looked as pale as a ghost as they stood, waiting.

Once the man takes his leave, their brains shut down.

Not even going into just power saving mode, but turns off instead momentarily.

Is it because of how poised she looks?

A simple designer dress suited for the summer weather, heels on. Hair longer, face mixed with soft and sharp features, blended together perfectly. Tattoos adorning her skin, like her cleavage area and neck, different Japanese words, koi fishes and sakura flowers, black and red ink mostly. She sure has matured a lot, just like them.

Grey eyes as fierce as ever if not more when they both make eye contact with her.

The way she sat there was... humbling.

Like an actual Queen.

A ruler. Blessed.

Strong. Confident. Independent.

They feel...small.

Insignificant.

And she's just sitting there, radiating power and authority from every inch of her being.

"Sit down."

Finally, they're brought out from their reverie by her tone.

She sounded just the same... except a little deeper with a slight rasp, but it just made it all the more intimidating.

They can't shake the feeling that it sounded more like a command than an actual plea.

They almost involuntarily swallowed a lump in their throats before finally taking the first few steps, their eyes never leaving her figure as they move closer.

Gun, slowly walks up to her before stopping right beside her table, Goo following in a timid manner like a puppy.

"I... wanted go talk to you."

"He means we would like to speak with you... if you're okay with that-or we can just fuck off right away-!"

Goo begins, starting out with a pretty decent self assurance, but the more he yapped the more it kept going down the drain. Gun shoots Goo a glance that screams 'I will rip you a new one right here and right now if you don't shut up'. Goo doesn't take the hint and ends up being interrupted by her yet again, which really pisses Gun off.

"I said sit down."

This time, her tone is a bit sharper, and she's havig a harder time keeping her patience grounded.

It's safe to say Gun is visibly annoyed with his partner for making the situation even more awkward and bizarre than it already is. He was tempted to kick the blonde in the shins, but he resists the urge because he's trying to keep his cool right now.

At this point, he just decides to keep his mouth shut and take a seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest as Nova addresses the both of them again.

"Why are you here?"

Flat, unamused.

It's as if her having to even ask that question was bothersome and a waste of her time.

For a moment, they don't really make eye contact with her, refusing to meet her piercing gaze, since hers don't falter even for a moment.

It's almost af if they're a mere pawn in her presence. A small, fragile thing in the face of her strenght and dignity.

Gun, opens his mouth to speak.

Yet, his brain feels like it is filled with static, and he's absentmindedly clutcing against his own trousers by his thighs under the table.

For the first time in a while, he feels intimidated.

What feels like an eternity, he gulps, his voice coming out strained and hoarse.

"W-we know it's been a long time since we have seen each other. And what we did back then was completely unacceptable. We acted like ignorant, self-entitled assholes and we didn't think about how you must have felt."

He pauses to take a deep breath, looking at her in the eyes as he continues speaking, words coming out through gritted teeth.

"We would like to ask for your forgiveness."

There it was.

He said it, and feels like throwing up that second in his mouth.

The plea for such was a foreign concept to him. It tasted bitter and spikey in his mouth, almost like lemon.

The words echo out in the silence that follows, and Gun can feel the weight of them like a physical burden. It's as if he's just ripped our his soul and thrown it out in front of her, exposed and vulnerable.

Goo, beside him, looks as if he's about to faint at any moment. There's sweat beading on his forehead, and his face has gone completely pale, like he's just seen a ghost.

It was so embarrassing.

"Ask for forgiveness, huh?..”

She repeats his words, more as a mutter as her smile pulls at one corner of her lips momentarily, looking out of the window beside her, so very amused.

"I'm not God, who could cleanse you of each and every of your sins, be it ones you tainted my life with, or others'. This isn't the right place for such."

Her words flow bluntly, and with a certain tone of assertiveness.

"I wouldn't have expected the two of you to feel any sort of remorse for what had happened three years ago, since neither of you hesitated to try and break my wings, and confiscate them for yourselves. It makes me wonder... are you two really apologizing from the goodness of your hearts and done some self reflection, or just feel uncomfortable about the fact that both of you have been taken down with ease?"

Each word carries a weight that makes both of their stomachs churn, like a twisted dagger being jammed into their gut and slowly twisted.

Essentially, she's calling them out for being selfish narcissists.

It was as if she's reaching into their souls and holding up a mirror to themselves, a reflection of their own ugly, selfish nature.

Gun's gaze turns a bit confused, his expression shifting from neutral to taken aback slightly.

"You have every right to doubt us... But we are being sincere. We have... reflected on our actions, and came to realize just how awful we've been to you. It's no excuse, nor does it undo what we did."

"That's correct. It's a shame your actions are as bland as your personalities."

She lets out a bitter scoff, cutting into the chocolate cake placed by before her.

"If bravery had a face, it certainly wouldn't look like either of yours' right now. "

She points at both of them through muttered words with her fork, chewing on the sugary pastry with.

That... was definitely not on their bingo cards right now.

Not so much of the answer, but the bluntness wrapped around with venom her words carried.

Goo, looks completely taken aback. Looking around for a moment as if in a search for her audacity, while Gun just looks annoyed.

"Our... actions are bland..?"

He clenches his jaw, now feeling irritated.

"The fact that we are sitting here right now, apologizing to you is because we have the balls to do it. You have no idea how hard this is for us."

"Oh look at the two of you, attempting greatness..."

Her hands fly up gently in feigned shock and surprise, tone flat but laced with the thick undertone of sarcasm.

A second after, her hands fall to her side.

"Pity it's just an attempt. If ignorance was a virtue, you'd both be saints by now."

Keeps it plain as ever, tone emotionless as she goes back to her dessert.

"How about this? Let's operate with sense. It is clear neither of you have much, so we will use my own, okay?"

Hostility.

Gun can barely restrain himself, he looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel in his forehead.

Goo? Oh he has now, just checked out, he knows this is just a battle he cannot win.

"You.. since when do you talk to people like that? Do you have any idea how disrespectful you're being right now??"

His tone is terse, absolutely floored by what he's hearing.

It isn't more so of what she's saying, though safe to say her wit is unmatched.. it's just how she's talking to them.

And Gun, ain't nobody can talk to him such way.

Never could, never will.

"You have no right to talk to us like that, you hear me? You're being disrespectful, and you need to shut your damn mouth before I shut it for you."

The threat slips out before he can stop himself, his anger getting the better of him.

“Watch your tone when you're talking to me.”

And Gun, he freezes.

He, has never heard such authoritative words in his life.

Ever.

It cut through all his senses. Practically rumbled like the a stormy night sky.

That moment, he felt like he was standing before a temple.

Tall, resilient, and gorgeous.

And he was once again, floored.

It's like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped on his head, and suddenly he's realizing just how far over the line he's gone, and he immediately sits up right.

“…did I just straighten myself??”

The blonde next to him, he just zeroes out completely, yet cannot help the chills that fill his body under his clothes.

“You wanna talk about disrespect..?”

She asks, tone flat, gaze heavy.

They can feel their chests tighten, her larger than life presence commanding their full attention even when they can't bring themselves to look up at her.

“I've met scarecrows with more spine than you. Your with is as sharp as a butter knife, and watching the two of you trying to have an argument with me is like witnessing a dance of clumsiness and confusion. I have seen more formidable foes in a toddler's tantrum. Why is it so hard to realize that you two trying to keep communicating your feelings on the ridiculous of the endeavor I'm currently engaged in is nothing but futile?”

As she speaks, she keeps looking between the two like she was talking to two kids.

“Disrespect, eh? Who was the one again who went against my plea of leaving the city alone in the first place and never coming back? You two are the perfect example of how nature experiments with mistakes.”

That went so fucking hard.

Goo just cannot help himself, the surprised scoff of laughter erupts from his lips without any warning, quickly smacking his hand over his mouth.

Gun on the other hand, takes his sunglasses down with a quickness, eyes wide and in disbelief of what he's hearing.

Where is all this hostility coming from?

They cannot help but just stare at her in confusion, Goo's eyes involuntarily twitching through a pained smile.

"What the hell is your problem...”

Gun asks quietly, his voice low, and visibly taken aback.

Nova, just counts to 8, letting out a long sigh while doing so.

“A moment of silence, please, for these poor souls' intelligence... do you not get what I'm saying? An apology isn't needed because I really couldn't give less fucks right now about what happened in the past, and could you please tell your friend here to calm down a little? If he were to be any less threatening right now, he'd be a dandelion.”

The last part was mainly aimed towards Goo, who begins to blink quickly to try and calm his nerves. Not because he was angry, but embarrassed since he lacked the brains to come up with such lines. He was a little jealous, and annoyed he liked her even more now.

After a moment, Gun turns to give Goo a glance. He's able to tell that he's clearly embarrassed and annoyed by the whole situation, and he can't help but share the same feeling himself.

"Wow... we got our asses handed to us again, and we didn't even have to fight."

Goo thinks to himself, visibly zoned out now, while looking at nothing at particular on the table.

Gun knew that coming here was useless, and he turned out to be more than right. The embarrassment he felt was more than bearable.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his frustration under control. He knows that they came here expecting a completely different situation than this, and now they're just being talked down to like a bunch of teenagers.

It's not doing good things for his ego, that's for sure.

He looks back at Nova, trying to keep his tone neutral as he speaks again.

"So you don't want an apology, and you don't care about the past. What do you want then? What do we do to make it up to you?"

“Y'all want forgiveness? Fine, you're forgiven. You could both leave now, unless you would want to engage in a fight again, which would be more than just an anticlimax. Your skills are on par with a blindfolded chicken playing hopscotch, and there's no fun in that.”

Both of them remain silent as she continues to speak. Gun can practically feel the blood boiling within his veins, his irritation building up to unbearable levels, while Goo just looks completely defeated. He's already given up the moment she started speaking down to them again.

It's almost comical to watch her just repeatedly and ruthlessly humiliate them, using their own ignorance against them.

Their current situation was nothing more than absolutely diabolical. If it wasn't enough that they couldn't outsmart her during their previous fight, apparently the same could be said about actual smarts.

This woman was too smart for her own good, and their own. The whole time, her tone was razor sharp, blunt and to the point with a gaze most people would shy away from in just a second.

Then again, they both have eyes, and common sense, as much as they lacked of using it being so in the heat of the moment, they could both now notice clearly.

This wasn't the calm, collected, and kind person she once was. Her presence was nothing short of being on edge, tense as all hell, and an undeniable presence of fatigue in her eyes that neither of them could ignore.

Her entire demeanor has become almost cold and distant, her behavior almost the opposite of what she was years ago. There's a hint of melancholy as well, hidden within the sharpness of her silver eyes.

She changed completely.

Despite themselves, their gazes can't help but shift from her face to the tired look in her eyes. It's just so different from how she used to be, that it actually makes them feel a small pang of guilt in their chests.

Well, as much as they’re competent enough to do so.

"We're sorry."

Goo's apology comes out softer than intended, and with a swiftness that even caught Gun off guard.

He didn't understand, since they had already done their due diligence of apologizing, but he tried his best to trust his partner's judgment, letting him continue.

"We shouldn't have come... it's clear as day we disturbed your mental state even more with our presence and over the top behavior. You seem like you already have enough on your plate, we didn't want to add more into that."

Nova's expression shifts to a softer, more tired look as she listens to Goo speak. But then, confusion laces her features, a small frown appearing on her face.

“You have no idea what you're talking about or how I'm feeling. Stop trying to act like we're friends, I don't need you to feel bad for me either.”

Self defense. It was purely that.

Her tone might have been annoyed and distant, but the way her hand twitched, it was more than obvious they struck a cord in her.

From that, Gun can tell that Goo's words have somehow affected her. Maybe he was right, and it bothered her more than she's letting on.

He glances at Goo, giving him a subtle nod to signal him to continuе. Не wants to see if they can get through to her, even just a little bit.

"We would just like to get a small hint into why you're acting and feeling the way you are... a lot had to happen in the three years since we last met..."

Goo continues, almost surprised at how nice he's being all of a sudden.

There is a hint of discomfort in her eyes once she looks back at him. So desperate to try and shield her fury of emotions away, afraid to be vulnerable.

She lets out a sigh, putting her purse in her lap and rummage through it, popping a cigarette between her lips.

“I don't need a therapy session. Especially not by two wonder brats...”

Her exterior hardens once more, lighting her cigarette, and taking a long drag.

Gun leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her a steady gaze, trying to keep his annoyance under check. He keeps his tone even as he speaks.

"Maybe you don't need a therapy session, but we're just trying to understand. You've changed, and we want to know why."

“I don't think I owe you any manners or any explanation.”

She grumbles, letting the smoke flow from her lips, and blowing it out.

It's like she's intentionally being difficult just to piss him off.

He leans forward slightly, his gaze hardening as he speaks, his voice laced with a hint of anger.

"You don't owe us anything, that's true. But can't you just... try to talk to us? We're not trying to be difficult here, we're just concerned."

“That's funny.”

She responds with an empty gaze, butting the ashes into her empty wine glass.

“What do you know about being the rag of other people's sorrow?”

There it is.

As she says that, the empty gaze never subsides, putting the cigarette between her lips, she takes another drag while never taking her eyes off of him.

It's like she's dropped a bombshell on him, and they don’t quite understand what she means by it.

He glances at Goo, seeing the same confusion reflected on his face, before looking back at her. He speaks again, his tone softer this time.

"What do you mean by that? What do you mean by 'being the rag of other people's sorrow'?"

Both of them look at her through narrowed eyes, both of their gazes sharp and analyzing as they observe her behavior. She's clearly trying to brush off what they just found out, but it's not working very well.

“I’ve had enough of it.”

She starts out, propping her elbow on the table, eyes visibly softening as she rather stares out the window than to look at them.

“Being kind and all.”

Her eyes may have softened, but there's still a slight undertone of hostility in her voice.

Meanwhile, Goo can tell that she's feeling uncomfortable having those emotions being brought up again, and his expression softens, a hint of sympathy present beneath the concerned frown on his face.

“I wanted to help. From the positivity, the gratitude, from how hopeful and supportive people were, knowing there was someone who was willing to help, and wanted nothing in return.... I was happy, because people were also happy, no matter the morbid nature of it all.”

Goo's expression softens even more as he hears her words, his sympathy growing stronger. Gun's gaze remains on her, his expression stoic but listening intently.

He speaks up again, his tone almost matter-of-factly.

"People took advantage of you, didn't they?"

A small sigh leaves her lips, watching the bustling city outside. The city she raised from the dust while she takes another drag.

“You share secrets under the moonlight; those secrets become weapons against you. You cry in the candlelight, yet your tears can never extinguish the fiery rage of betrayal; and after the last drop of love is squeezed dry from your heart, they toss away your husk of a soul.”

She continues, puffing out one last cloud of smoke as she puts her cigarette out.

“I began to absolutely loathe, detest, revile, denounce my existence with a passion like a furnace... especially when I started to enjoy hurting people more than when I did it out the goodness of my own heart, with the intention to help. Sure, I still did help, but it also momentarily helped me too, to fill that gaping soul in my chest after my patience and kindness had ran thin... I choked on such longing I couldn't spit out. Yes... desire is so different when God bore you hungry.”

Both of the guys listen to her in silent shock, absorbing her every word. Her description of her own experience, her feelings and pain, it's incredibly raw and vulnerable. It's clear that whatever she's been through has left deep scars on her soul.

Yet again, unfortunately it was something unavoidable.

Goo finally speaks up, his tone gentle as he responds to her.

"No wonder you’re so on edge but also seem…a lot more resilient now."

And he meant what he said.

No wonder her sharp eyes are more cutting now. Like she has a 360° vision, yet still..

She still seemed like someone who couldn’t find her place again despite her reflecting on herself.

“Well, my patience has ran thin, and people fail to understand why. I no longer find peace and happiness when helping others. I became indifferent to others' gratitude.”

Her tone now becomes indifferent.

Acceptance. No matter how much kindness you offer, some people will always be selfish and evil individuals.

“... I don't even know who I am anymore...”

Her words are more than enough to further add even more complexity to her feelings, but solidifies Goo’s theory.

She was not only tired, she was also deeply craving for something, some type of satisfaction or relief, the way her eyes almost seem to burn with this strange craving. She's like a starving animal, desperate for something to satisfy her, and desperate to find her purpose again.

“Sometimes I wonder... I'm not sure whether I'm a good person or not anymore... But I hope I am good enough to be loved and appreciated.”

The glimmer of hope that appears in her eyes could be described almost pitiful.

Pitiful, that she had to get here to question her whole existence, and purpose in life.

“I want to be more than my ears...and the arms that offer comfort. More than my power and abilities...To be loved unreasonably, rather than for the fact that I listen when the rest of the world goes quiet, or throwing myself into pits of the danger and despair. I chose this life, I'm well aware... but it matters not how selfless you are when people would still rather continue to take more and more of you.”

Her words start to have a profound impact in both of them. An individual who has given and given, and only recently realized that she has given a bit too much to get nothing in return.

And the pain and longing in her eyes... both of them can see it clearly, and it seems to only get even more intense as she speaks. The depth of her feelings is almost palpable, and it's clear that she's been holding it in for a long time.

“I keep convincing myself I do not mind being the rag of other people's sorrow... Yet I find I am no longer durable, sinking in the mix of theirs and my grief. A source of therapeutic conversations, yet never unplanned ones. Talk to a friend, a real friend who truly knows my aspirations rather than my soothing words. Who truly knows the stones that fill my chest as I devour their rocks. Then them bubbling into a foam after a while, ceasing to exist in their minds."

She lets out a long sigh, playing with the dessert fork she has not long ago put down absentmindedly, and puts her cigarette out.

“Who am I if not threaded cloth, a person who heals while avoiding healing herself... As I remember the tears absorbed by an overgrown mold, consuming me till I am nothing more but a manmade stream, who flows towards an unfamiliar rage.”

This time, her tone is more strained, doing her damned best to stop the wave of emotions trying to break free and roll of her tongue, eyes unfocusing into nothing particular.

“What was I made for?.. Or rather am I made for something beyond inherited love. Something beyond the power I hold and the actions I take. If I really am slowly becoming what I try so hard to cleanse the world from? Can I be loved without being convenient?..”

And she whispers the last part, turning to them, catching despair flashing through her eyes.

“Even if I'm unsure whether I'm an actually good person to begin with?”

And both of them knew, in that moment, that they couldn't really give an answer to her.

Unfortunately, neither of them could understand that level of sacrifice.

Slowly becoming the exact same thing she loathed the most and tried to get rid of.

“It's hard to make up an answer... isn't it?”

She asks softly, a bitter smile painted her lips as she keeps her eyes trained on them both.

“I understand. Every time I try to do so myself, it feels like chasing a shadow… whenever I get hold of it, it slips through my fingers, until I’m left with nothing again.”

Was there even a right answer to give?

Who's to say what she's feeling isn't just a reflection of others'? Or their perception?

Was there even a satisfying answer to give her?

They couldn't. They haven't walked even a minute in her shoes.

It was all a hard pill to swallow.

So much was said, so much was shared they felt like they were drowning in her maelstrom of emotions.

They could never understand that level of self sacrifice, that was bordering on self sabotage as well.

Neither of them has ever been in a situation like this before, where they couldn't find any words to say in the face of that level of vulnerability and pain. And it's a difficult realization to bear, knowing that their perspectives and experiences fall short of truly understanding what she's going through.

What more was there to even left to say? They came here to apologize, yet in the end, they got more than they bargained for.

Eventually, she lets out a long sigh.

“Before I go, thank you... for taking the time out of your days to come see me personally and apologize. I accept it... but regarding the two of you asking for forgiveness...”

The corners of her lips pull back slightly, sucking in her teeth as she places the fork down she unintentionally bent a little between her hands.

“You can't undo the pain you brought to others. In order to find peace in yourself and the situation, is to eventually forgive the cruelty that no longer resides within, and to accept the fact that they may always see that inhumanity in you... and it is in their every right to never forgive.”

Once she speaks again, they both can feel the meaning behind those words, and the gravity of what she's saying. They might have come here to apologize, but her response is more than well- earned.

She doesn't forgive them.

Gun and Goo both remain silent, their gazes respectfully cast down to the ground. They don't know what to say, but they can respect her decision.

Was that really it?

They still had so many unanswered questions left.

What's her backstory? How did she get so strong? What's her limit? What did she display back then?

Are they friends of allies? If not, will she seek vengeance against them once in the future?

Perhaps it's better to stay with curious sometimes. She's clearly in a vulnerable position, and would rather be elsewhere than here.

They both watch her slowly stand up, patting down her dress to flatten the wrinkles out, purse in one hand.

She hums softly, glancing at them both.

“But thank you. You made me realize it's time for me to re-evaluate my life decisions.”

A soft smile is the only thing she can give them, for now.

“And you two… take your own paths in life. Don’t let yourselves be used by others, even if it seems like there is no choice. There always is.”

She says softly, signing the bill after she pays.

“Regarding our fight and the defeat the two of you experienced..”

Her eyes sharpen slightly, a smile of someone like a Goddess paints her features, and they brace themselves.

“You have been praying so long for the strength to outlive the pain your past inflicted on you, that you have forgotten- you are already strong. That heart of yours was crafted from the same clay as that of Achilles, last true warrior on the sands of Troy, fighting a war that was years long. Do you think Achilles wept over the fates of the lesser warriors who tried and failed to slaughter him? Do you think you should lose sleep over the lesser people who tried to drown you in sorrow and hoped you couldn't swim? Listen to your heart. You have seen crueler battlefields than this. If you were so resilient through them, then you know in your heart, you will survive this.”

Now that.. was a speech.

“So long boys... we might meet again. Perhaps as foes or enemies, I'll let faith make that decision.”

And with that, they can only watch her retreating form, the clicking of her heels growing softer and softer, until she disappears from their vision.

Her words only further the impact, and both of them can't help but see their own journey and hers in a new light...

A star that has finally grown tired of burning up with no one to notice it... now preparing to transform into a collapsed, black hole, in the hopes of becoming something greater.

Everything that they learned, all of her feelings and confessions... the complexity of her circumstances and background, the way she spoke about her life, the pain that she's been through, the emotions that she's been keeping hidden and bottled up for her whole life...

They had gone into this meeting expecting a simple apology and an explanation. Instead, they had gotten much more than they bargained for. Her words had touched on something deeply profound, something that they were both still trying to fully understand.

Finally, Gun breaks the silence, his voice contemplative.

"That was... a lot to take in."

"Right... And I couldn't even confess to her."

Of course Jongoo comes with his usual idioticy, making Gun's head fall on the table, forehead down with a thud, letting out a loud sigh.

"Are you serious..? That's all you've got to say after all that?"

He lifts his head up and shoots Goo a sidelong glare, his eyes tired and incredulous.

"Well, as she said, we might meet again either way, so I'm still somewhat hopeful."

Gun lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head slightly.

"...I swear down on my nans grave, one day I will fold you up like a paper plane, and throw you into outer space."

"...you're so abusive."

“And you’re insufferable. A match made in hell.”

[fuctacles]

Ao3 | divider by @penny00dreadful

Steve was taking a break from calling clients and munching on his sandwich when his frazzled co-worker stormed in. He never liked the guy, and could never trust someone driven by money like that, but the stormy look on his face gave him a pause. Bill was always composed and giving off the air of a rich boy looking down on anyone else. Whatever put him in such a state must have been big. 

When Bill disappears behind the doors of their manager, Steve curiously leans towards Angela. 

"What's gotten into his pants?" he murmurs, hoping for a piece of gossip.

Angela scoffs.

"Idiot thought he could sell the Creel House."

Angela wasn't a pleasant person. But she was also blunt and always ready to talk shit. And she had the cutest cats, even if she was a bit obsessed with them. She was Steve's go-to for office gossip. And sometimes extra information he missed as one of the newer employees. Office lore, as Dustin would call it.

"What's the Creel House?" he asks genuinely. She eyes him like he's stupid, but he's dealt with those stares long before her, so he holds it down until she folds.

"It's this old house we haven't been able to sell for years, probably around a decade. There's all kinds of stupid rumors around it, like curses and hauntings," she tells him with an eye roll. He snorts to let her know he shares her opinion, as scoffs, snorts, and eye rolls were the language she understood the best. "Bill thought he could go for it after his selling streak last month. Guess the streak just broke." She smiled in that evil way only introverted old ladies could. A chill went down Steve's spine, but he snickered alongside her. 

"What a loser," he commented and focused back on his sandwich, but his imagination was running wild about how the house might look. As soon as he was done with his paperwork for the day, he went looking for the file on Creel's House. 

His manager eyed him weirdly, but he assured him it was mostly curiosity speaking through him.

The file had photos from soon after it was built and more recent ones, after a decade of neglect. There weren't many capturing the interior, but if it was anywhere similar to the outside, it should be in good condition for small renovations. It was big, too. Could become a home for a family, their dog, and visiting friends. Maybe someone's lesbian best friend and her love interest, too...

Needless to say, as soon as Steve found out about it, the house wouldn't leave his thoughts. It had a huge backyard that extended into the woods behind it. It was cheap for a house this size, probably because of its bad rap. And, the most important part, it was closer to Robin than the apartment he was currently renting. 

The last thing to check off on his list was seeing it in person. 

His manager didn't take his request well. 

"You think you can do something Bill couldn't?" he asks with his eyebrows raised. 

It takes all of Steve's strength not to scoff. 

"I'm not planning on selling it. I'm actually considering buying it."

That seems to only amuse his boss further. 

"Ha! You wouldn't be the first. Be my guest then." He shrugs, turning to reach a locked cabinet where the keys to the houses are stored. He hands him the ring of old keys. "Knock yourself out." He grins.

"Thank you." Steve nods and turns around to leave the office as soon as possible. He didn't share his plans with any of his coworkers, not interested in hearing their opinions, but he could feel the amused stares Angela was giving him over her coffee when he was packing to leave for the day.

When he's passing by her desk, she leans forward on her elbows, her proper, trimmed nails posed like claws on the mug. 

"Any plans for the weekend, Steven?" she asks with all the charm of a feral cat. 

Steve knows for a fact that Angela doesn't care about her coworkers' lives unless there are felines or police involved. There's only one reason she could be asking, and it's inside the pocket of his blazer. 

"Not really. Might visit a friend." He shrugs. "You?" 

"Well, good luck with that," Angela completely ignores his question. "I hope nothing spooky happens on your trip," she says as if she hopes something does happen to him.

"Thank you, Angela, you too." Steve nods to his coworker and leaves hastily so nothing evil attaches to him before he even enters a haunted house. 

The house was located an hour's drive away, and he didn't want to rush his exploration, so he waited for the weekend to come around before he went to see it. According to the map, it's been built off the main road, giving a sense of privacy and solitude. It was more part of the forest than the nearest neighborhood. A great place for an eccentric loner or a loud family that didn't want to be a bother.

Steve packed the house files, a notepad, measuring tape, and some lunch for his trip. And, upon some consideration, the upgraded walkie Dustin had given him. He wasn't going to risk being stranded miles from civilization without the means of contact. 

It was a Saturday, before noon, but he dialed the number he called at least once a week.

"Hello?" His favorite person picked up on the third ring, the tone of her voice indicating she had been asleep not so long ago.

"Hey Robs."

"Steve! What's up?"

His smile grew. Hearing her always felt better than he imagined when grabbing the phone, and soon he might be able to see her in person. 

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" he asks coyly, leaning on the wall in his kitchen. 

"I have some papers left to grade and might go grab drinks with the girls later. What about you?"

"I'm about to head out to scout a new house," he says, thumbing at the keys in his pocket. He doesn't want to share his plans yet, since they were mostly wishful thinking. Maybe the repairs were too out of his budget, maybe the house has gotten worse since the last photos of it had been taken. Or maybe there was something weird about it like everyone claimed. "It's on the way to Indianapolis, so if you don't mind, I could make a detour—"

"Do I mind?!" Robin screeches into his ear. He grins despite the volume briefly disorienting him. "I haven't seen you in a month, get your ass down here!" 

"Well, how could I say no, when you ask so nicely," he laughs.

"Damn right, I do!" she snickers back. "Now go go go, the sooner you start driving, the sooner you get here!"

"Okay, Jesus, so bossy."

They say their 'see you soon's and Steve grabs his duffel bag. Even if the house is a total bust, at least he'll spend the weekend with his best friend. 

The house is not a total bust.

He almost misses the turn leading to it, hidden behind overgrown bushes. The drive quickly turns from asphalt to gravel and then disappears completely, and he hopes the overgrown grass framed with young trees is leading him in the right direction.

His worries subside when he spots the roof peeking from between the trees and he's soon rolling into what probably used to be a driveway.

The sound of his car door closing resonates loudly in the rural scenery, scaring some birds above him. As he eyes the bushes between himself and the house's entrance, he wishes he had taken something other than a club with him. Albeit the worst of it has been torn or pushed aside, probably by Bill who's been here before him. The house itself looks like the pictures, maybe the ivy on the side has grown since then. Despite its age of about forty years and being abandoned, it still looks nice. 

He rounds the car and opens up the trunk, where he always had a couple of necessities. A first aid kit, a fire extinguisher, a flamethrower, and such. And the metal bat he reaches for right now. It's better to be safe than sorry, as he's run into squatters before.

He locks the car and using the bat, moves the bushes out of his way to the porch. He tries the steps first, and they seem sturdy so he steps up to the door. The colorful glass in its frame forms a rose. He's not a big fan of the design choice and wonders if it would be hard to get a matching door without it.

The hinges creak loudly when he pushes inside and takes the first proper look at the house's interior. Whoever planned the placement of all the windows did a great job because it felt illuminated from the inside, despite the dust covering everything. On his left is a study room, covered by shelves and with a huge window to provide proper reading light. He gives the cozy-looking chairs a cursory glance and moves on. On the right extends the front porch but with a couple of steps he finds the living room, with an old TV and a collection of couches that indicate the previous owners had a huge group of friends. 

Further down, he finds the dining room, the steps to the back porch, and the kitchen, where he stops for longer. Because there on the fridge, in colorful letter magnets, somebody has spelled 'fuck off'.

Steve snickers. He thought it was a nice touch for an allegedly haunted house. 

Some of the magnets were holding up drawings of dragons and similar creatures. He spotted some yellowing Spider-Man stickers too, so maybe whatever kids used to live here were also little nerds like his friends. Curiously, he opened the fridge to find an ancient can of Coke inside. The cupboards held long-expired jars of herbs, rice, and pasta. It seemed like the house was never properly cleaned out. 

Next on his journey was the upstairs, where he found three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master bedroom held the biggest and most expensive bed he's ever seen. Dragging it upstairs, even in parts, must have been hell. It had a canopy too, semi-translucent and dark. It partially hid the painting hanging over the headboard, and he had to step closer to take a look at it.

It was another dragon, with its wings spread and toothy mouth dripping with drool on a small figure beneath it - a woman in a skimpy dress, with dragonfly wings. Steve makes a face. 

"A man of peculiar taste, I see," he murmurs to himself, backing away from the bed. The rest of the walls had similar paintings of mythical creatures, making Steve wonder what kind of person the previous owner was. And why would he abandon art and furniture that must have cost a small fortune? 

He opened the door on the side, which turned out to lead into a small walk-in closet. It had a full length mirror and the few things left on hangers looked more like costumes than regular clothes. The owner must have been an eccentric artist type. An actor, maybe? Or a musician, he notes, spotting an empty guitar stand in the corner. 

At least the bathroom looks relatively normal if you don't count the gargoyle faucets added in.

The guest room paintings are far more tame, giving the impression the owner wanted the saucy ones for himself. Aside from that, there's nothing really exciting about them. The furniture looks to be on the more expensive side, but if Steve didn't have his realtor knowledge he proably wouldn't even notice.

He checks the windows, which seem to be in good shape, maybe one or two need replacing, and others just need extra insulation. The back porch looks even better than the front one, but the backyard is a mess. It's surrounded by a tall fence to keep the wildlife away, but throughout the years, the forest started creeping through, the roots digging beneath, plants dropping their seeds to grow. It would be a lot of work to get rid of it.

The whole house was a lot of work, but not as much as Steve had feared. The construction was solid and it stood against weather and abandonment for years without taking much damage. He probably wouldn't need professionals for most of it. 

He stood in the middle of the foyer, listening to his guts while looking around the abandoned, empty house. He knew he had time to make a decision. He could talk it out with Robin if he wanted, although keeping it a surprise sounded more fun.

Giving the ground floor one last lazy stroll, he spots a door he had missed earlier. It's smaller than the usual door, making Steve assume it leads to the basement. Or, as the wooden plaque on the door claims, "The Dungeon". Which was not mentioned in the house plans he'd looked through. 

He pulls out the key ring from his back pocket to look for the right one, though he doesn't remember 'basement' being among the labels. He flicks through all of them again.

Main. Back. Master. Guest 1. Guest 2.

No basement in sight. 

Perhaps the key went loose from the keyring, or it was somewhere in the house. He wasn't about to go on a wild goose chase to see some cobwebs and spiders when the alternative was getting on the road to see his friend. 

He steps into the library once again, probably the most normal room of them all, and takes a closer look at the titles on the shelves. It's more fantasy, as he expected, with some classics he's heard about from Dustin, but mostly titles unknown to him. He finds a whole shelf of D&D manuals, too. He picks one up with a curious hum, wondering if there's a way to get those even if he doesn't go with the house after all. 

He's not sure how old the game is (Dustin had told him multiple times, but he always forgets) but he wouldn't be surprised if all the released material so far was in here. He gently places the paperback back in its place, assuming that they were stored in order and he didn't want to disturb that. He took a step back to take the room in.

Walls covered in books, floor to ceiling, a fireplace with figurines on the mantle, four cozy armchairs, and a low table with a map under a glass pane. Middle Earth, of course. 

The Party would love it, he muses. It doesn't feel like a coincidence, that the house he considers buying, has things that would appeal to his friends. But he knows he has to make a smart decision. And nothing clears his mind better than a night out with his best friend. 

read the rest on Ao3

[kisu-doodles]

Big tw: for child abuse and manipulation

Idk about u Babez but I really would like to see jack winters featured in Scott’s story in mainstream x men adaptations. Like idk I just feel like it’s a really integral part of his character (which is why all the beauteous fic writers include him) that just gets ignored in the shows and movies!

Like scoots has a ton of trauma already but there is something so upsetting about jack winters and the also how he parallels other people in Scott’s life (specifically Xavier and sinister).

I think it was demonstrated best in the children of the atom comic, especially that scene where scott comes home and jack just starts raging out of nowhere. But also in other comics you see how he can be ‘nice’ to Scott like getting him his glasses but this further tightens his control over him making Scott think that his only option is staying with him. Jack knows Scott is way more powerful than him so he abuses him to make him feel helpless then does basic things like let him go to school (which I thought was odd that he was registered as Scott’s foster father in CoA since he’s a wanted criminal but then I was like oh he’s using a fake identity and having Scott at school means he can get money from the government which somehow makes it even more gross)

Like just from Scott’s pov, he’s on the run after accidentally destroying the orphanage, effectively blind for fear of opening his eyes and living with a traumatic brain injury and the after effects of sinister’s experiments, thinking he’s some sort of monster because of his mutation. He was probably homeless for a long long time which would be even harder due to his blindness and then suddenly he is approached by a man who he inexplicably trusts (since Jack is a low level telepath) who gives him food and shelter and what’s more he’s a mutant just like Scott. Scott probably thinks this is the only person in the world who understands him but then little by little he gets coerced into doing things he doesn’t want to do just little crimes at first and when he refuses jack becomes a terrifying monster that beats him and yells before calming down and reminding Scott that if he wasn’t such a dumb ass he wouldn’t get angry but hey Scott can’t help it being an idiot because his head is fucked up.

Then after raging he gives Scott the greatest gift, his sight back and what’s more he lets him go to school because he finds scott irritating so it would be nice for him to be out of his hair for awhile, maybe learn how to look people in the eye and stop mumbling like an idiot. Also he better do well in class and also no he’s not going to be allowed to take gym class not because of the signs of abuse, but because what if his glasses get knocked off and well it’d suck if they find out what a freak scott really is right? They’d probably send him to die in prison but Scott shouldn’t worry because Jack always looks out for him even if he’s an irritating pissant.

So Scott does everything jack says but it doesn’t stop the raging and Scott becomes convinced that he’s just a rotten to his core and that’s why Jack gets so mad at him. But it’s hard to keep up appearances at school when he’s so terribly underweight, wears the same dirty clothes everyday and can’t help zoning out during class because he was up all night helping Jack commit crimes, so Scott avoids getting to know anyone and it’s pretty easy because people tend to avoid the greasy haired weirdo with stupid glasses.

Then the heist at the nuclear plant happens and suddenly Scott is being coerced by another telepath to kill Jack and he just can’t do that, jack is the only one who could tolerate him, he gave him back his sight, he took him in when the world wanted nothing to do with him.

Then this telepath says he’s taking Scott to his home and he’s going to be a weapon for him but unlike Jack it’s for the greater good but Jack also said that, well what other choice does he have? Scott’s always been a useful object even if he is an brain damaged idiot so he goes, maybe it won’t be easy for Xavier to beat him like Jack but he’s also an infinitely more powerful mutant compared to jack but maybe if Scott does everything he says he won’t hurt him or at least not more than he deserves.

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Vox takes you on a date to a casino.

Vox: "So, Doll what do you want to do first?"

You: "Oh well, I'm not really sure... I've never really gambled before. I don't want to lose money because I don't know how..."

Vox slings his arm around your shoulder, his warm body pressed to yours.

Vox: "Nonsense, Doll I'll teach you, and it's all on my, my treat, how about we get you a nice drink, and I'll teach you how to BJ..."

At your startled look, he holds up his hands laughing, clearly he'd been teasing you.

Vox: "I just meant Blackjack."

He laughs at your reddened face and guides you over to the bar, giving you the rundown of the rules, you're sure you'll learn better as you play, but it gives you enough of an idea of what's expected in the game.

You sit in the seat and Vox hovers beside you, sending soothing static down your spine and sparking delightfully through your nerves making it hard to focus.

Not that it matters as Vox tells you every move to make anyway right now.

You celebrate your first win so excitedly and to Vox's utter pleasure you kiss him ecstatic and buzzing, he buys you another drink and you go another round really liking this game.

You found you won the next hand again under his guidance and tried yourself the next time and lost.

Every time he helped you, you seemed to win, and each time he got a kiss in gratitude, he'd clearly won more than he'd lost.

As you were about to buy in for another round, a trio of imposing guys approach the table and you end up clutching Vox's arm as you're both whisked off to a side room.

The dude sitting there is feline in nature. The guards post beside him and one at the door behind you.

Vox: "Well hello there Husker, good to see you my man, our evening is going splendidly, nice place you've got here."

'Husker' however is stoney faced, to Vox's charismatic friendliness.

Husk: "As a fellow Overlord who don't want no war, I'm gonna just tell you this once and give you one chance, you leave and there'll be no trouble."

Vox shifts, subtly blocking you further from view, you cling to his jacket trembling.

Vox: "And why would I do that, my good fellow?"

His voice, friendly as ever but you can hear the shift in the undertone, a dangerous one, feeling the static shocks run down his spine you still do not let go despite your fingers going numb.

It was Vox's one rule, if there's trouble you don't let go as he can zap you both out of anywhere with electricity in less than a moment as long as you're connected.

Husk: "You been countin' cards, and I want you out."

You gasp in slight surprise and you feel Vox shaking with laughter, like he'd expected this all along.

Vox: "Why would you say that, Husk? Be careful what you say next, you might not like the outcome."

Husk was either very brave or very foolish, or perhaps a bit of both, maybe it's because Vox wasn't really a fighter... That was ever talked about.

Husk: "You win every round you play, and you might not have the counting cards tells like most normal folk but I know you're doing it in that tecky head of yours and I want you out for cheating on my turf."

Vox: "I'm going to give you just one chance to take that accusation and rude statement back my man, and let bygone be bygones, otherwise... You'll be the one regretting your actions tonight. I might have a 'techy' head, but I can assure you I have integrity for games that my mentor taught me..."

The room flickers around you all, your knuckles going pale as your grip shakes and the power flashes in the whole casino.

Vox: "I do not cheat, and you insult me as an Overlord and a paying patron, and if you don't submit an apology, of course good chum, I will be forced to ruin you."

Husk: "I've heard enough, take him out boys."

Guns were pulled and in a moment you were back in VTower in the penthouse, dizzy from the unusual travel, blood still buzzing in your veins as Vox catches you and settles you on the couch cradling your face.

Vox: "You okay? Babydoll?"

You breathe deep for a moment getting grounded, your face splits into a wide grin.

You: "Fuck you're hot when you're swinging your dick around with authority."

Vox laughs kissing you deeply. Thoroughly amused at your choice of words and feeling the real thing twitch with more interest.

Vox: "Oh yeah? Want me to order you around a little tonight, Doll? Maybe you can show your Master just how much you like being his little pet."

You can't help the loan that escapes you, his shark-like grin tells you how well received your involuntary response went however.

Vox: "Good, my Babydoll. So good aren't you? Held onto me the whole time we were there, trusted me, such a good little Pet."

You whimper and bite your lip, flushing and nodding eagerly, dragging a finger down the ball of his antenna making him shiver slightly, his claws prick your hips where they tighten.

You: "Did you cheat?"

Vox: "Oh absolutely, Alastor always taught me as long as you hold all the cards and are the most powerful in the room however, no one can stop you. I have seniority, I have more power and I'm afraid I'm going to have to end that two bit Overlords little buisness in less than a weeks time."

Vox kisses you all across the face and angling your head funny, kisses down your neck with every word, to your giggles.

Vox: "I'll give him two days to lure him into a false sense of security, then I'll strike, and while he's trying to save himself I'll offer him a deal... But first, my Doll, I'm going to have a pre-celebration, right here with you."

His voice almost purrs at you and you whimper as he covers your body with his, kissing you soundly and really living up to his words as he doesn't disappoint tending to all your needs for the next two days, making you scream his name more times than you can keep track of.

Only, after two days Vox's plans didn't quite work out the way he'd intended...

It seems the cat was smarter than he appeared... And had already taken the threat seriously, seems the old cat was now under Alastor's protection, and his business untouchable, Husk had his soul chained but still kept his power and business and Vox raged for a whole week after that.

Only you could calm him for short periods of times, but you were bruised from how roughly he'd handled you.

On the last night, Vox curled around you muttering apologies into your skin as he caressed every mark, and kissed every bite.

You didn't mind so much, but with an extra threat just that week from some mafia guys, he moved you out of the tower and into your own flat.

You couldn't help but feel isolated and alone, wondering if Vox would ever come back for you...

[nottheletterkay]

Songbird

“I’m not special. Not like her.”

“You’re not,” he said quickly, definitively.

“You’re special like you.”

Chapter 1

“Mom, we’ve been over this.” 

You exhaled for what felt like the millionth time when, in reality, you’ve only been on the phone with your mother for maybe twenty minutes.

“I’m just saying, honey, New York? You’ve lived a lot of places— dreamed about living a lot of places, and New York has never been on either of those lists,” she continued. “And it’s so far away…”

You could hear the irritation in her voice, but, even moreso, the sadness.

You rubbed at your face and threw your head back in silent frustration before proceeding with as much empathy and understanding as you could muster.

“Look, Mom, I know it isn’t ideal, but this will be really good for Maevis. I’ve done the research, I’ve saved the money, I’ve almost packed everything up– alone, as a single mother, might I add,” you sprinkled in that last part for comedic relief.

Based on her silence, it didn't quite land.

“It’s what’s best for her,” you concluded gently.

You could practically hear the gears turning in her head over the phone.

“I’m not saying I don’t want the absolute best for my grandbaby, but, come on. She’s barely five years old! Can’t the fancy, expensive, oh-so-far-away-from-your-family boarding schools wait until she’s at least in the double digits?”

That made you giggle, but you stood your ground. “This will be good for her, I promise. You’ll see.”

Your mind began to wander as you packed the last box in you and your daughter’s small apartment.

The truth is, your mother wouldn’t see-- not the real ways this new school would really be helping her granddaughter, anyway. 

See, you hadn’t actually done any research, and this wasn’t costing you anything, thank goodness, at least as far as tuition is concerned. In fact, you hadn’t heard of this school at all before Charles Xavier had found you.

Before he’d found Maevis.

She was so young. 

She was so young and what you knew about mutants was so scarce.

At first, it was easy to dismiss the early signs. To rationalize the flickering lights during bedtime temper tantrums. To convince yourself that it was certainly within the realm of her physical capabilities to throw a sippy cup at that velocity and distance after you had denied her another cookie. That was the only explanation as to how it could have ended up all the way across the kitchen in tiny, plastic shards… 

Right?

It wasn’t until the last couple of months that you’d finally admitted to yourself that Maevis’ behavior was something different.

Something special.

The times between her outbursts were growing shorter, and the destruction that took place during, becoming more profound.

You scolding her in the car turned into blinking, dysfunctional traffic lights. Telling her she couldn’t buy a toy at the store resulted in entire product displays toppling over. There were only so many times you could apologize to the store clerks for “being clumsy.”

Then there were  the more peculiar things, the things you knew there were no logical explanation for– the times you could not only perceive Maevis’ emotions, but could physically feel them. 

When she’d fallen off of her bike and you hurried to scoop her scared, crying frame, you swore you’d felt that scrape on your knee, too.

Or when you caught her trying to hide the potted plant she’d accidentally knocked over and reached for you in apology, it was her shame that coursed through your body.

It wasn’t normal. None of it was.

And that didn't matter to you because what was “normal,” anyway?

Your daughter was special.

But, even so, you couldn’t deny the fact that whatever was happening with Maevis was intensifying, and quickly, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that she could hurt someone else or herself.

You had to do something, you just didn’t know what.

That’s why when Professor Charles Xavier showed up at your doorstep that day, with that gorgeous, regal woman you’d come to know as Dr. Jean Grey, you knew in your bones there was no other option.

You hadn’t explained any of this to your mother, of course. How could you when you didn’t even understand it yourself? You would wait until you and Maevis were settled, until there was some semblance of understanding and control and routine and—

“Fine.” You startled at the sound of your mother’s voice, her words cutting your trip down memory lane rather short.

“I trust you. I’m just going to miss my girls, that’s all.”

“We’re gonna miss you, too, Mom,” you assured her. You really did understand her concern.

“But you can visit as much as you like, you know. Phoenix and New York City have some pretty accessible airports,” you joke nervously.

“Just, like, when we’re all settled in and I’m comfortable in my new classroom and all that,” you add a little too quickly.

You really did want her to visit, just… maybe not anytime soon.

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

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble under your breath as you approach the ancient, but, admittedly, beautiful stone building.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

You giggled at the school’s name, propping your daughter a little higher on your hip. “Well, Maeve, you are a ‘youngster,’ that’s for sure.”

And she was.

In fact, according to Professor Xavier, she would the youngest student the school has had in… well, ever.

You recall your first conversation the two of you ever had.

You were in somewhat of a haze, trying to process all of the information the two strangers had just provided you with.

You had heard about mutants, of course, anyone with a television or ears had. But you’d never considered that you’d given birth to one.

At least, not until now.

 “I- I really appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Professor Xavier, but I-” you started, but honestly didn’t know where the sentence was going to end.

“Charles,” he corrected warmly. You tried your best to appear polite and collected as you continued to respond.

“Right, yes. Charles.” It sounded a bit strange addressing him so informally, especially after only having known him for, what? Maybe an hour?

“Again, I really appreciate this— Maevis and I both do, and I know shecould use the guidance, I just… I mean, do you even have a kindergarten at this school of yours?”

You understood how important it was for your daughter to receive guidance on her mutation; it wasn’t something you or any other neurotypical facility could offer her.

But the teacher in you– the mother in you–  couldn’t help but wonder about her academic and social development. She needed to be around kids her age, learning the same things they were.

Mutation or not, that was important, too, right?

“Of course it’s important, dear.”

You startled at the sound of Professor Xavier’s voice.

You didn’t say that out loud, did you?

With furrowed eyebrows, you started, “I’m sorry, did I-”

He only chuckled at your confusion. “No, you didn’t say that out loud. Reading the minds of others is one of my mutations,” the Professor explained, except you were watching his face the entire time and his mouth didn’t move a muscle.

Your eyebrows shot up in– what? Disbelief? Offense?

“I do apologize,” he started.

All you could do was blink at the man decidedly not talking to you.

“I try not to make a habit of reading the thoughts of those around me without their consent.”

You nodded skeptically as he continued and added half-heartedly, “and what about talking inside of their heads? Do you make a habit out of that?”

He found your sense of humor in what he considered to be a very heavy, very tricky situation, endearing.

“I do not,” he chuckled and continued, actually speaking this time. “But you’re right. Her academic and social development are just as important as refining her gift. And although she is the youngest student the academy will have ever enrolled, I can promise you we have the means to provide the resources that any child of her age could possibly require.”

He seemed so sure, so confident in this proposition.

You wish you could say the same about yourself.

He slowly inched closer to you before speaking again. 

“I understand your apprehension, but, surely, we can’t send her off to school down the street where she’ll be telekinetically tossing toys off of shelves in the classroom, or forcing her emotions onto every peer she so much as disagrees with on the playground,” Charles waved his hands in slight amusement.

You chewed your lip anxiously as you considered this.

You knew he was right.

But he said she was the youngest mutant to ever be offered enrollment at his school– the youngest mutant he, or anyone, has ever heard of manifesting their powers so early, period. If there weren’t any kids her own age at school, would she ever be able to be around normal kids her own age without risking hurting them?

Without risking hurting herself? 

Your heart sank at the true fear that had been festering deep within you since Maevis’ very first display of power.

Would she ever feel normal if you did this?

Would she ever feel normal at all?

You could feel your heart racing at the thought of all of this going painfully south.

“She will be able to be around kids her own age,” the Professor said, once again, snapping you out of your anxious spiraling.

“Think of this as…” he looked around the room, trying to come up with the words to convince you, “ a specialized homeschooling program. Dr. Grey and Ms. Munroe will teach her everything she needs to know, including that of a typical kindergarten academic curriculum, and as soon as she’s ready, we’ll make sure she is able to join her peers out there.” He motioned to the window displaying the outside of your apartment building as he said this, but his words implied a space much vaster.

You churned in consideration, but didn’t speak just yet.

“It’s what is safest for everyone. It’s what is safest for Maevis,” Professor Xavier emphasized.

You continued to bite your lip, glancing behind Professor Xavier at Dr. Grey, who only sat quietly with a look of never-ending patience upon her face.

Her demeanor is what finally had you nodding in agreement.

“Plus," the Professor added, "you’ll be at the academy, teaching just a few halls down. You’ll be there every step of the way.”

He’s right. This is what’s safest for everyone. For Maevis.

It’s what’s best for Maevis.

“Okay,” you said simply.

Both Professor Xavier and Dr. Grey smiled, and the genuine relief and joy you saw in their faces sort of made your chest ache. 

“This is what’s best for Maevis,” you repeated in your head.

“But,” you added, gaining the shocked attention of your guests, “ if we do this, please, ‘try not to read my mind without my consent’ anymore,” you quipped, only half joking. 

The Professor chuckled at that.

“Of course, dear.”

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

“Oh, it is so good to see you again!” Dr. Grey said earnestly, squeezing your shoulder in a way that made you feel slightly more at ease.

She turned to Maevis.

“And it’s good to see you again, too, you gorgeous girl.”

She clung to you rather tightly, but she still greeted Dr. Grey warmly, reaching for her face.

You panicked suddenly, not wanting Jean to be overwhelmed with whatever rollercoaster of emotions Maevis might be feeling right now.

It wasn’t a constant transfer of energy, but it was a powerful one.

“Oh, no, sweetie, remember, we can’t touch people’s bodies without asking them,” you gently remind her. She retracted her hand sadly, but you reassured her.

“It’s okay, Maev. But remember boundaries? We just have to be careful,” you tell her softly, nudging your nose gently against hers.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, almost ashamedly. “I’m sorry.”

Dr. Grey was watching the entire interaction affectionately. “That’s okay, Maevis,” she said. “Your mother is right,” she continued, looking between the two of you. “It is important to remember people’s boundaries, especially your own. You should always ask before you enter someone’s personal space.”

Maevis only nodded shyly in agreement.

“But,” Dr. Grey  added, “if it’s okay with you, and your mother, I would like for you to tell me hello again– the way you were going to.”

Both Dr. Grey  and Maevis were looking to you for approval now. “Oh. I mean…” You were nervous and you couldn’t pinpoint why. This is what you were here for– what Maevis was here for, right?

“I mean, of course,” you said. “As long as you’re comfortable with it, Maev,” you looked at her, waiting.

Maevis looked between the two of you before speaking. “I’m comfortable,” she said, reaching for Dr. Grey’s face again. “I can show you my feelings.”

You smiled. Something about her referring to this part of her mutation as “showing her feelings” always felt so innocent. So delicate. Like there was no part of this that was dangerous or unmanageable.

Of course, that wasn’t reality.

As soon as Maevis’ hand touched Dr. Grey’s face, it was like she was somewhere else– lost in her mind.

Or, rather, Maevis’ mind.

A small smile spread across her face as she gripped the tiny hand that was touching her cheek a little tighter.

Finally, Maevis retracted.

“Incredible,” Dr. Grey said, breathless. “You are a very special person, Maevis.”

Your daughter only smiled and nuzzled into your neck.

“She is,” you agreed, smiling.

“And we here at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters are thrilled to, not only have her as a pupil, but to have her remarkable mother teaching at the institute as well.”

You turned around to follow Dr. Grey’s gaze, not surprised to see Professor Xavier gliding across the large foyer to greet you. 

You smiled, “Hello, Professor. Say hello, Maevis,” you say, waving your hand in example.

“Hi, Charles,” you daughter smiled and did the same. Professor Xavier returned the gesture before adding, “At least one of you remembered to call me Charles,” he said.

You both chuckled at that before he continued.

“We are so happy you’re here with us, dear,” he said with that same genuineness he had at your first meeting.

Before you could respond, assuring him that you were just as happy to be here, he continued.

“There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

You almost didn’t notice the two people next to him, which was shocking, considering one of them was the most breathtaking woman– all dark skin, crystal eyes, and hair white as snow, and the other is probably the largest man you’ve ever seen in person.

“What a hot couple,” you think to yourself.

The gorgeous woman extends her hand, an unsurprisingly perfect smile aimed directly at you.

“Hey, there. I’m Ororo Munroe, but the kids like to call me Storm. I’ll be Maevis’ primary educator during her time here at the academy.”

You shake her hand and introduce yourself before she turns her attention to the little girl in your arms.

“And you must be the lady of the hour, “ Ms. Munroe says to Maevis brightly. “I am so happy to meet you, sweetie. I’ll be your new teacher.”

Maevis is anything but reserved, so she takes to her almost immediately.

You wondered if it’s her extroverted nature that makes all of this go smoothly, or if there’s some unspoken tether that mutants feel between one another. 

That would make sense, especially in an evolutionary regard. It could be why Maevis has been so inexplicably drawn to Dr. Grey since meeting her.

You try to ignore the unexpected twinge you feel in your stomach at that thought.

You’re pulled out of this strange line of thinking at the sound of the tree trunk of a man now speaking. 

“I’m Logan.”

He doesn’t extend a hand.

In fact, he doesn’t make a move to do or say anything more, and you kind of just stand there expectantly.

You figured, if he’s as friendly as everyone else you’ve met so far, he might throw in a, “nice to meet you”?

A school title?

A cool, somewhat unnecessary superhero nickname?

As if reading your mind, he adds, “Logan’s fine.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in realization.

“Wait, can you read minds, too?” you ask.

Storm, Charles, and Jean all laugh, but Logan only half-smiles. 

“No, he’s just a smartass,” Ms. Munroe chides, then immediately covers her mouth, eyes darting between you and Maevis.

“I am so sorry. Oh my gosh, little ears! I haven’t been around a child this young in… well, like, ever. Shit, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes go even wider somehow and she smacks herself in the forehead.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I truly didn’t even realize I cursed this much,” she all but screams, then turns to her friends. “How come none of you told me I had such a potty mouth?!”

You’re full on giggling now as you reach with your free had to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay! Seriously, it’s okay. I don’t always have the most restraint around her, either, and I’m her mother. Unfortunately, she has heard worse,” you laugh and feel relieved when the Professor, Dr. Grey, and Ms. Munroe all laugh alongside you and don’t give you that stuffy, judgey look that most people do when you accidentally (or not so accidentally) curse around your daughter.

You all chat for a few more minutes, everyone’s excitement becoming more apparent. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Logan seemed uninterested, to say the least. This didn’t necessarily bother you, though; you understood that not everyone is experienced with or comfortable around children. You weren’t going to fault him for that if that were the case. 

It just confused you more than anything. 

Ms. Munroe would be leading Maev’s academics, Dr. Grey would be her mentoring her in her mutation, Professor Xavier had sought the two of you out and was acting Dean of the school— everyone had their purpose, so it seemed.

So what was Logan’s?

“I’m here to help you get settled in.”

You blinked in surprise.

How did he do that?

“You’re really not reading my mind?” you ask, skeptically.

He almost laughed at that.

“Doesn’t take a telepath to recognize a confused stare,” he replied.

He voice was gruff, but his tone was light.

That didn’t stop your face from heating up with embarrassment, though.

Were you really staring?

“Logan teaches history in the classroom adjacent to yours,” Professor Xavier added. 

“A perfect fit, considering he was alive for most of it,” Dr. Grey prodded, nudging Logan slightly in the ribs.

He scoffed while everyone else chuckled and looked down at her with a soft smile.

The way she was gazing up at him made you think maybe he and Ms. Munroe were, in fact, not the hot couple in this equation.

“Your and Maevis’ new living quarters are also located in the same wing of the mansion as his. I figured it was most logical for him to help you get adjusted, “ Charles finished.

“That, and his welcoming personality,” Ms. Munroe added, faux excitement absolutely dripping with sarcasm, clapping Logan on the shoulder in jest.

You smiled, admiring the relationship between the four of them, affectionate and comfortable.

Even Logan in his own reserved, somewhat brooding way.

Although their histories, both individual and relational, were unclear to you, they were a family, you could see that.

Anyone could.

Dr. Grey suddenly made a surprised sound.

“Oh, shoot!” she said, collecting herself. “I have session with a student in less than five minutes— I should get going.”

You mouthed a wordless, “oh,” in understanding, adjusting Maevis to rest on your other hip.

Goodness, she’s getting so big.

Turning to the two of you, she continues, “Again, we are so happy to have you. All of this is just such a gift,” she says with that sincere tone that makes you want to burst into tears.

She murmurs her goodbye to the others, walking away, lightly squeezing Logan’s abnormally large bicep on the way.

“Professor, we should really get going, too if we’re going to make it to New Student Orientation on time, “ says Ms. Munroe.

“Ah, yes,” Professor Xavier agrees, repositioning his chair. “Well, dear, I hope you enjoy getting acquainted with the mansion. And please let me know if you or Maevis need anything at all.”

He turns to look at Logan, the two of them locking eyes momentarily as if having a fleeting, silent conversation of their own. 

Which, you now realize, is totally possible.

As the Professor fades into the distance of the ever-growing hallway, you feel a stiff, awkward tension begin to form between you and Logan.

He isn’t nearly as welcoming or chatty as the others, and you know yourself. If you sit in this uncomfortable silence for too long, you’re going to start rambling and its going to be painful for everyone.

“I can show you your room,” Logan interrupts your self-deprecating line of thinking, grabbing the suitcase at your side and starting off without so much as a word to you or Maev.

You pucker your lips in submission.

“Cool. Right behind you,” you mutter a little sarcastically.

Maevis giggles and mimics you a little louder: “Cool! Right behind you!”

You can’t help but laugh with her as you follow Logan down the long hall, up the winding stairs, and into your new life.

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

This is my first marvel fanfiction! It's definitely going to be a series, I just don't know how long yet. Ahh, hope you like it so far.

[bidisasterevankinard]

I'd have put my money on the conflict being Buck charging full speed ahead with the relationship (eg wanting to move in) while Tommy sort of puts the brakes because of past relationship trauma and not fully believing Buck's committed enough. BUT a bigger storyline wouldn't be just about this so I'm very curious

I see your vision and I agree I'm sure the main problem wouldn't be the argument itself, yet I don't think it's gonna be helicopter crush, but some other thing or maybe car crush or bad call, but I'm not sure it's Buck who will run too fast. Because he tried to commit to fast (Abby), to commit slowly (Ali) and commit in good tempo but because of bad reasons (Taylor) and because of different reasons it bit him in his ass. Ofc he wasn't the one who was on the blame relationship fall(with Abby and Ali it's hard to find his fault at all) but it still I'm sure it made him scared bc he doesn't know how to commit to a person as he should in good tempo bc of good reasons. I kinda feel it's gonna be Buck's problem. To be able to say why he wants to be "it" with Tommy, but not to get back to his clinging phase (also btw 8x5/6 it's time Gerard is back so maybe he will add to the problems for Buck to get over. Now i also think maybe Buck will be met with the close to Athena's situation in season 2 when she had a chance to get new higher job but she loved her life like that and only Bobby wasn't the one to tell her to go and change her life. Maybe Gerard would offer Buck smt in the other station and it will lead to Buck need to address what he wants from his future and from his life rn)

As for Tommy it's harder to say anything bc we don't know his love life story except that he came out only in 2017. There's a lot of hcs and I see Tommy as the person who had little slut phase but then tried serious relationships and bc of smt it never clicked. Is that possible he wouldn't want to be more serious with Buck? Ofc, but there's also can be that he actually the one who feels like Buck is less commited after he went over his panic and trying to chase Tommy. Maybe Tommy would feel insecure about smt

Everything is possible. Also ofc i wouldn't be so against moving in in episode 6, but my gut tells me it's not gonna be it. I think I love you scene more possible. And i bet moving in it's at least middle season finale if not the season finale. Bc how Tim and Oliver talked about this season I feel like they would try to get Buck and Tommy to get to know each other really really good and overcome some difficulties first, before moving them together(especially if they would decide bucktommy it's not it break them before they moved on together would be easier. I see bucktommy moving in together close the them getting engaged). Madney and BuckTaylor both moved together only in second part of the seasons where they officially dated (3 and 5s), bathena also moved together only in second part of the season they officially dated (2s) but yeah it was definitely faster. My bet bucktommy gonna move together around 10 months of dating, not 6 as I suspect it's gonna be in 8x5-6

[bubbipond]

To date, my favorite 4 Minute replay we see is Korn's at the end. I think his 4 minutes was the best because it doesn't focus on one major event. He doesn't focus on saving Kla's brother, being better to Great, or turning away from his family and the business. He in retrospect chooses them all in his 4 minutes. Going back to that moment with Kla would rewrite everything because he and Tonkla would be in totally different situations. Maybe he would not go so far into his father's business, maybe he would have the ability to not hold slight hostility towards Great, maybe he could live normally and without massive guilt. He went far back enough to a place where they were all ignorant to what would eventually be a massive blow to their respective lives. 4 Minutes at its core is about choices and how they affect us. The choices we make are markers in our lives that can shift our perceptions and personalities. These are choices we have to live with, regret, overthink, and move on from. The question is, can the couples?

The show answered that too. Great and Tyme were good people who learned to be apathetic to the world and others. But they never truly made choices that they couldn't eventually live with. Korn and Tonkla were doomed from the beginning of their awkwardly balanced relationship. They were the only two main characters that could not live with their choices. Tonkla would never truly be happy even if Korn finally came out and declared him his boyfriend because he already lost the one most important thing to him. Korn didn't even like his job, was constantly exhausted, and bitter about choices that were made for him. If he truly loved Kla, his way of showing it was terrible, and watching his rewrite of their time together made it more heartbreaking. Which was why it was so easy for Kla to find someone else to alter that dynamic. The love and affection he received from Korn felt wrong in comparison to what he was to Korn, a sugar baby. Asking for raw sex is something you (typically) do with someone you trust and are faithful to. But Korn couldn't give him that because he was not faithful and they'd never truly be together in this life.

The Korn we see in the present does not realize just how much of a bad guy he is. He's stepped too far into his father's world and can't get out. From the jump, he liked the power imbalance but when Kla finally broke it, their worlds unraveled. Great was eventually willing to give up the comfort of the money and life he lived with. While Korn was never going to and when he finally realized that his place with his father really was nothing, it was too late to turn around. It was too late to say I am going to be a better person. Both he and Kla were cursed with the oldest sibling trope, the kids who have to fall into a specific role whether they like it or not. The biggest tragedy in my opinion isn't that they died, it's that 4 minutes Korn sees. The person he and Tonkla could have been if he had made a different choice. It's the realization a part of him really did love Tonkla but he was never strong enough to choose him and that played a part in their demise.

[lightofraye]

jared's relationship (or lack thereof) with the cast frankly weirds me out. is he ever supportive of their new projects? if he couldn't attend this event, he could have at the very least helped promote it if he believes in the cause. he has time to check twitter and get upset over what some teenagers are tweeting about him but not about his own nasty longstanding stans. neither does he have time to engage positively in good causes

i thought he so badly wanted to get on The Boys but he can't make the time to fly out and meet the show's faves and chill with them. does he really believe he's above it all?

i'm starting to believe fans truly do reflect their favorites and he's coming off petty and entitled. unfortunately, his attitude towards the cast translates into his fans calling everyone else "extras" and treating jensen as an accessory

look at jensen and misha surrounded by all the lovely people they've been friends with for years, and then look at jared in the corner all by himself

i'm not saying he owes anyone anything but for someone so chronically online to be ignoring the awesome things happening and focusing on his personal online bullies leaves a bad taste in my mouth

and using him not being in California as an excuse for not being there last night.

Rob and Ruth were in Scotland and they attended via Zoom. Not sure where Mark S or Curtis were, but they also attended via Zoom and weren't at the house with the others. Laz Alonso and Valorie Curry also attended via Zoom. There were other ways to be there.

He wasn't there either because he didn't want to be or he wasn't wanted. Pick your poison.

also stop being so hypocritical, you complain about Danneel cutting of Jensen when Jared does it as well and alot more. You complain when anyone makes a jokes a to Jensen about jensen but is comletely ok when Jared does the same.

You are such a fucking asshole that noone likes

I was wondering when the anti Jared folks would come out.

Given how Rob and Rich are banking on Destiel for their podcast, small wonder Jared does anything with them. Jensen is a far patient man than I would be. And Jared seemed to get along well with Ruth during duos recently.

And Jared didn’t beg Kripke at all. Kripke begged him! And he doesn’t engage with many folks on social media anymore. He’s grown as a person, has owned up to his issues.

Not everyone has to stay friends after their work has ended.

You can keep trying to paint him a bad person, but who’s the one getting pissy on social media about politics and his role? (Misha.) Who is trying to take fans’ data and sell it? (Misha.) Who tries to post thirst traps for money? (Misha.) Who tried to leverage Destiel for politics? (Misha.) Who exaggerates and lies about stories that netted death threats against Jared? (Misha.)

Y’all know you can’t win this argument. So again: why are you trying? Go write your Destiel fantasies on your blogs and leave me and other Jared fans be.

[ariadondo-trackingfossils]

the new genre of oc drawings: Mani spying awkwardly at people dear to her, to their dismay (that's a pencilcase and pen)

context to the strange family tree: Mani and Soto are biological strangers, were (younger) aunt and (older) nephew after two relatives married, a legal scuffle over Mani's mistreatment later and they're siblings now.

Despite his denial Soto does see Mani as family, but because of how young he had to take care of her he's conflicted on what type of family she would be, a niece or a sister or a daughter. He feels robbed of his youth at just 26 but also feels guilt due to inaction

Inaction for what? Not even he knows for sure, but it's a constant hunch that everyone, including him, failed at something extremely important by forgetting about it

[moeblob]

It's been stormy all day and we lost power and I have no energy take OCs I've been thinking about recently after ignoring them for a long time.

Tremaine (left) and his wonderful and amazing and superb big brother Germaine (right) while Tremaine talks about his brother's best friend because best friends like each other which is a good topic to talk about with the person you admire most! (Germaine then goes to find Motka and accuse him of trying to win over his sweet little brother's heart and how that's really mean to do how dare you betray him like this. Motka just sighs bc it's only the millionth time it's happened)

They're just part of a group based on the layers of hell and hoo boy they are just ... the most codependent siblings to ever sibling probably. It's pretty bad.