#and he ran away before they found his latent abilities?

[pinpkachu]

i forget that as a human i was gifted with the ability to create anything my heart wishes, be it literature, art, song, etc

[papalo-palo]

WHM 52, MSQ 39 - "Factual Folklore", "The Best Inventions", "Influencing Inquisitors", "By the Lights of Ishgard", & "Blood for Blood"

At once utterly dejected by the sudden freeze-out and utterly livid by the inquisitor's undermining, Alphinaud, Cid, and I made our way down the stairs with the intent of convening someplace away from the inquisitor. But as I made my way to the landing, I looked over at the camp kitchen and saw an Elezen meeting my gaze without flinching. They raised their eyebrow in askance and suddenly I had a strong need to beg for a piece of bread. He was polite enough to ask if I was the cause of the commotion upstairs before cutting to the quick and asking if I wanted to change Lord Drillemont's mind.

Of course, I did! But how could I get him to not take the inquisitor's words at face value?

"If there's one thing I've learned about the man in my time here, it's that he listens to and respects the opinions of those under his command. Win over the barracks, and he's sure to take notice. Now, you ask? That's easy―serve the poor souls decent fare for a change. The last few supply shipments contained no meat whatsoever, and the knights are rightfully beginning to complain. I'm thinking we could prepare them steaks using mudpuppy tail meat. 'Twouldn't be a quality meal, 'tis true, but it'd be a damn sight better than nothing."

Since it was clear that I was going to take up the challenge, Haustefort gave me a bottle of vinegar and told me to douse the mudpuppies with it ere I fight them. The vinegar will weaken them by clogging their mucous glands and drying their skin. He marked on my map where would be the best place to go hunting for the creatures. I bid Cid and Alphinaud to remain in the keep to find other ways to overcome the obstacle of the inquisitor and then set out for Daniffen Pass.

The pass is a tunnel through the frozen mountains and connects the northwest areas of Coerthas Central Highlands with the southwest. When I first came from the Shroud, I saw a strange collection of massive red crystals that looked like bubbles frozen solid in the midst of bursting. Apparently the southern end of the pass opens to those features. I was told that a shard of Dalamud landed not too far from here, and I wondered if the latent energy of the thing would explain the large pond of just chilled water that I passed on the way to the north mouth of the pass. Sable ran close enough for me to see there were fish swimming in the lake! I will leave it to a fisherman to determine if the fish swimming in the water was safe to eat.

The pass itself is as steep as it is short. It never really got very dark within it, not with the snow-reflected light streaming in from both ends. Haustefort had marked the very middle of the pass as the best place to find a spotted mudpuppy of sufficient age and ability to provide a suitable chunk of meat for the oven. I doubted anything could be living in the tunnel until I dismounted at the proper place and found myself right beside yet another pond filled with more fish! I will definitely have to tell my Lominsan friends about this place on promise that they save me any good eating to be found.

So engrossed in trying to see the fish in the darkness that I almost didn't hear the massive mudpuppy sneaking up behind me! Spotted with the same hues as the rock around us, I wonder if I climbed over it along the way. Just as a threw the contents of the bottle of vinegar on its head, it belched up a bubble of mud to encase me. The mud missed me entirely but the vinegar splashed true. It shuddered as the acid easily washed off a protective layer of mucus and cracked its skin. Already wounded and unable to maneuver well to strike me, Sable and I cut down the beast with just a few strikes.

I see why Haustefort requested that I bring back only the tail. The legs of the beast were too sinewy to be worth the bother and the torso of the beast was soaked with toxic glands. Only the tail, which served as a fat reservoir for the eft, was worth taking. It would still require deft carving and stewing, but there was enough meat here to make it worthwhile, and enough fat to render off for several candles and farm grease. All in all, a good take.

When I returned to Haustefort, he saw my hale and hearty appearance and mistook it for a plan gone wrong. But when he received my prize he promised to never go near mudpuppy spawning grounds without a bottle of vinegar again. Quicker than it took me to harvest the meat, he had prepared it into a series of well-seasoned steaks. He bid me to distribute the finished meal to every hungry knight I saw in the tower.

Theophilain was the first knight, and I only had to turn around to see him sitting at the tables while one of his peers lectured over him. When I approached him, he quickly stood to his feet to challenge me, lay bare the cook's conspiracy with me, and confirm the tactic as worthwhile as he requested one of the plates I had approached him with. Once fed, he declared his wholeness by declaring a renewed ability to find novel reasons to avoid sentry duty. No wonder his peer had been lecturing him at length about duty.

Ombeline was the second knight to whom I brought a plate. She sat alone at the end of a table with her chin perched upon her hands and her arms perched upon the table. No peer was present to distract her from her thoughts. Though she had a second mind when the smell of the cook steak reached her. She quickly received the offering and offered a blessing of Halone in its stead. She may march to her death tomorrow, but tonight, she eats well.

Ignemortel stood on the second level, monologing at his peer without ceasing. As I approached him, he turned to me and asked, "Ever must we train to maintain our skill at arms, yet never are we to receive proper sustenance!?" How fortuitous is it then, that I presented him the last of the three mudpuppy steaks. It had cooled some in the short time it took me to arrive, and it was clear that the meat would be a trial to chew through despite the attention of the chef, but it was still a slice of cooked meat and taken with gratitude. He thanked me for the meal, took a bite, and resumed detailing his grievances to his friend while permitting the action of speaking to masticate the bite into submission.

When I reported to Haustefort of what his cooking had done, he seemed very sure of himself. He had kept a steak in reserve and now asked that I take it to Cenota in the infirmary as she is often so preoccupied with the health of her patients that she often neglects to attend to her own. I found the nurse in the infirmary upstairs as she attempted to console a patient who was distraught that he was not able to save someone dear to him. When I attempted to give her the food, she initially dismissed me as she was too focused on tending to her patient. The smell of the mudpuppy steak silenced her and she found herself suddenly quite hungry. She made quick work of the meal in front of me, and suddenly embarrassed, gave me three portions of Knight's Bread in return. After looking over what is the daily ration in this keep, I see why no one made any complaint of the rubbery texture of the meat. You could probably use a slice of Knight's Bread as a scrubbing device for your sword!

As I left her, Cid called me to attend him and Chirurgeon Astidien nearby. Cid had realized that the infirmary lacked for a good quality and quantity of alembics for the use of creating medicines for the troops. He had already taken some of the broken equipment and put together suitable additions, both to assist the infirmary and to assist the recovery of his memory. But the devices require ice sprite cores to be complete as there is some manner in which the cores can be used to draw cold in instead of radiating it out. Cid acknowledged that it sounds quite impossible but he is sure it will work. As I looked upon him and remembered the monk Marques that he thought it was, I felt sympathy for him. I would gather the cores and Cid will prove himself, one way or the other.

A blizzard blew in as I left the infirmary, making it easy to find ice sprites just outside the gates to Whitebrim Front. I directed Sable to attack one while I began stoning a second. Her experience and my training made quick work of those two, and together we made quicker work of the third. The same blizzard that blew in the ice sprites blew us back into the infirmary to deliver the cores to Cid who quickly put together an alembic.

Cenota was happy to see the device, but the design was something she had never seen before. She and Astidien expressed their doubts about the foreign design. Cid's work, while impressive, apparently is not intuitive to those of us who are not trained in engineering. As they considered the benefits that would come as they became accustomed to the device, Inquisitor Guillaime arrived to freeze any attempt of hope's warmth. He warned the chirurgeons of associating with us because we had interfered with the questioning of a suspected heretic. At once the Ishgardians closed their minds and rejected Cid's improved alembic and our offerings.

Cid openly guessed that the Inquisitor was actively working against us because of our actions to prove Lord Francel's innocence. He hoped that if we were to get on the inquisitor's good side, then he would permit us to get on with our work in peace. I said nothing to him as the inquisitor's aura had announced his approach before his words did, again. And his aura is lingering on the stone like a bad stain. There is more to him than contrariness. He does not act in good faith, I am sure.

But Cid tries to see the good in all people, apparently, and has set me to speaking with others in Whitebrim Front. He has chosen not to interact with others himself, and I look again at the strange set of goggles crossing his brow. Where Inquisitor Guillaime is hiding in plain sight, Cid lacks the sight to see he is hiding something. Whatever it could be, I would rather face Cid's truth than the inquisitors, even as I am quite sure that we will have to face the inquisitor's if we are going to help Cid reveal his.

From the three people willing to speak with me about the inquisitor, I have learned that he arrived in Whitebrim Front several moons ago in the midst of a obscuring blizzard, that he is responsible for the uncovering and sentencing of scores of heretics from among the people, and that inquisitors are acting under the mandate of the Holy See and are effectively untouchable. I went to report my findings to Alphinaud in the center of the keep by the grand fire. I do not have the mind for politics and intrigue as he does.

I had wondered if it was true that white-haired Elezen were more suited to cold climates, but I heard the boy's teeth chattering as I approached. In a strange display of humility, he admitted that he was not dressed property for the Coerthan climate. He hadn't bothered to find better clothing, as he thought we would have found the Enterprise and departed by now. He lamented the irksome inquisitor and asked for what information I had learned.

The story of the inquisitor's arrival did not map with the layout of the keep. Sensing something amiss, Alphinaud volunteered me to check around the keep, starting with the eastern gate. It was night when I stepped out, and unusually clear. In the distance to the north, I could see the bright lights of Ishgard crowning the spires that the city was built upon. While it was possible to squeeze between the keep and a rock outcropping to make my way south to the main road, I followed the tale given to me of the inquisitor's arrival. If the inquisitor was backlit by the lights of Ishgard, then I will follow the path to the north and see just how he arrived when there is nothing north but an endless crevice.

The path immediately sloped down and curled around the north side of the keep, descending all the while. Too soon I was on the east side of the keep as a map would mark, but several hundred yalms below. Above me I could see the bridge just outside of the keep's west gate. I stood on the edge of the path and saw something sparkle far below me. The path continued descending to the south, but I could see that it also switched back to go north. If I followed it along, I would come to the oddity I saw in the snow far below.

A dragon, long dead and frozen, lay in the bottom of the crevasse. But as I approached, I sensed the same distressing aura that I feel from the inquisitor. He has been here recently, and he has done something in the snow. Before I could get close enough to see the oddity, I stopped and asked the land for a blessing. The land responded by granting Sable and me a small flow of aether that kept us warm and agile while healing any damage we accumulate while investigating the oddity.

It is well that I was prepared as three plasmoid burst from the snow to assault us! These lightning-aspected elementals weren't the great danger that I was sensing, but had to be dealt with just the same. Sable expressed her annoyance at their presence with great kicks and pecks. Still wary, I asked for the land to bless us again, which it did, and approached the mound hidden by the dragon's body.

Nothing attacked us as I dig into the roughly mounded snow until I felt something hard. It did not take long to uncover the body, still recognizable and intact despite the many moons left out in the wild. The same blizzard that kept the knights inside had preserved the man's corpse. I recognized the clothes frozen solid to his form. An inquisitor.

A check of the pockets revealed document that had been stained with blood before being preserved here. I could not read it, but I am sure a certain schooled and impertinent child could. I mounted Sable who was all too glad to get away from the area before our bodies froze to the rock.

We emerged into the cloud-covered dawn and went at once to the firepit where Alphinaud was waiting for us. I handed over the document which Alphinaud had to hold near the fire for the fibers to warm enough so he could unroll it and read it. He muttered that it was an official papal appointment to the position of inquisitor. "Given the contents of this encyclical, I believe you have just made the acquaintance of the real Inquisitor Guillaime." Alphinaud surmised that the real inquisitor had been murdered on the day of his arrival, and before the man had made it to Whitebrim Front. Which meant that the man that has been dogging us this entire time is an impostor.

Alphinaud's attention now shifted from doing whatever was necessary to gain access to the Enterprise, to doing whatever is necessary to stopping the impostor before he can work further foul against us. As if to drive the point home, he handed me a weapon coffer that had newly arrived for him in lieu of the warmer clothing he had requested. Again, I am surprised by the advanced work of the omnicrafter as it continues to be the superior work. The wand of frost is fitting for the area, and the raptorskin targe is as large as I am, but perhaps Rosomoni will put it to use.

As I put the weapons away, Alphinaud worried that the bloody encyclical alone will not persuade Lord Drillemont to assist us. The only other person that might have any words in our favor is Ser Joellaut who witnessed the false inquisitor's approach that fateful night. Would Alphinaud attempt to persuade him to help us? Of course not, he leaves that task to me for some strange reason. The cold has made him reluctant to leave the fire's warmth.

The recovering knight refused to even entertain the possibility that Inquisitor Guillaime was an imposter. The man saved his life after all and no impostor would go that far. He dared me to speak with Ser Prunilla who was also at the eastern gate that night and helped the inquisitor carry him to safety. Ser Prunilla saw me approaching and called out for me to cease. But she seemed more afraid than angry, so in response I merely showed her the bloody encyclical. Ser Prunilla was too loud in telling me that she knew naught at all about the document or its implications. When I pressed her, she accused me of slander. But the more she claimed ignorance of the matter, the less I believed her. She left me no choice but to use my mother's weapon in the face of recalcitrant stubbornness.

With a pointed gesture and without words, I expressed the fullness of my doubt. That jabbing finger, though it never touched her, poked through the last of her defenses and she began to wail in distress. "You know, don't you? Fury take me, I prayed this day would come..." She confessed what she saw that night. All of what she had seen, and done. Tricked and blackmailed into serving the false inquisitor, she watched in horror these past moons as innocent after innocent was framed for heresy and swiftly put to the death. When she considered confessing all to Lord Drillemont, she remembered the false inquisitor's threats to her family and remained silent. It was she that placed the multiple draconic rosaries in Lord Francel's goods, all for the hope that someone would investigate and find the truth.

When she fell silent, I knew what had to come next. She spoke of a cache of draconic rosaries that the false inquisitor would take from to frame others. I had to find it first. As Sable carried me out of the gates, I asked the land to help me find the cache. While the rosaries themselves are likely to be inert, that the false inquisitor gave it so much attention would stain the box's aether enough for the land to reject it. And indeed, the land led me directly to a suspicious box covered in loose snow.

This time, I did not hope for a slight hint. I took the box, rosaries and all, and went straight to Lord Drillemont. Sable did not give me the option of running the stairs on foot, but all but flew up the tower only to stop before his lordship. The commander took one look at me and immediately began to berate me for approaching him again. When I presented the bloody encyclical and the box of draconic rosaries, the man looked like he was ready to throw me into Witchdrop personally until he realized just what he was holding. He retracted his ban and gave us full access to the Stone Vigil, but also begged our help to bring the false inquisitor to justice. To underscore his change of heart, he threw open the tower's coffers and bid me to take anything I needed. Of the armor, I had no use, but the six Allagan silver pieces could be sold for gil to help Rosomoni and myself with our needs.

I did not wait for Alphinaud to give me political guidance. The land had marked Inquisitor Guillaime as someone that needed to be removed from the Coerthan wilds. Had this transpired in the Twelveswood, the elementals and the Wood Wailers would have undone him upon the first night that he appeared. That he was able to work his evil for so long is testament to how weakened the Coerthan wilds have become. I gave my word and my assistance to Lord Drillemont that I would help him stop the false inquisitor and immediately began to prepare for the task.

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO NEFE COSMIA, MICA. 🌓

ꕥ — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: monis age: 24 pronouns: she/her ooc contact: @ _yyxy on twt other characters in xc: mei, winter

ꕥ — IC INFORMATION;

name: mica (mika) age: 22 pronouns: he/him series: oc (finding eden) canon point: oc but like pre-ephira arc in finding eden. app triggers: er… vague mentions of religion (cults?)

personality:

mica is a laid back kind of guy. pretty easy-going and ‘rolls with the punches’ type of person, he deals with things as they come–and makes up as he goes along. it’s difficult to get him seriously stressed out, he just goes with the flow and doesn’t let it affect him too much. everything always works out fine in the end, so what’s the point in worrying? this laid back attitude can become apathy and laziness, something that becomes prominent the more you spend time with him.

mica comes off ditzy, but that’s just his ‘go with the flow’ attitude. he’s has a sharp mind, and a sharp tongue at that. it’s just his laziness tends to outweigh anything else, so he comes off… as some guy with nothing going on in his head. he knows he’s being perceived like that but he’s just too lazy to care or act on it. he’s selfish, he only acts out when it benefits him.

mica loves to tease others, he’s got a bit of a prankster attitude with it. It’s all lighthearted and good natured, since he generally doesn’t go near people he dislikes. waste of energy and time, if he dislikes you he’ll steer clear. if he likes you? get ready for some light teasing–it’s his way of showing affection.

something your muse struggles with:

his indifference. to mica, as long as it doesn’t affect him he genuinely doesn’t care for what others do. it’s selfish of him to truly only care about himself, but like he can’t help it.

taking things seriously. something about coping? he just takes everything kind of… in a jokey-manner.

your muse’s greatest strength:

his adaptability. mica is the type to adapt to the mood. he can work with the flow of the conversation and keep his cool.

history / background:

ephira, a place where talent is looked on as a must to have is where mica was born. he grew up in a church however, on the outskirts of the bustling underground city, and where he met yu and mei. that’s the only good thing that came out of that church, and the only reason he didn’t try to runaway early on.

the church, without getting into detail, denounced talents. for muvu (his species), talents can turn into an ability and it’s a key part of their identity. and it wasn’t until mica went through puberty that it hit him. this is weird, this isn’t normal… so he started to sneak out of the church often. ephira is underground, so the concept of day and night doesn’t exist. everyone in the church fall asleep and wake up at the same time everyday: mica used that to sneak out when they slept.

with yu, they got part-time jobs, worked as much as they could, saved up money… y’know, the ‘gotta save up to run away’ scheme. except mica left before yu, he ran away at the age of 17. didn’t stay in contact with yu or mei until he met up with them at the age of 20. during that time he did odd jobs, auditioned for the fun of it, went couch hopping… etc. found some level of success from appearing in a tv drama and well… rest is history. yay.

powers / abilities:

to talk about mica’s powers we need to discuss what the muvu can do! all muvu, and any animal based alien in the finding eden world can have talent power. what is talent power? users have some specialization which they have become so skilled at that they are able to utilize the latent magical energy in the universe to super power their skill, and use it offensively (or to just do the thing they do, very well). usually takes the form of “upgrading” their “weapon” for the period of time that they can focus their energy.

so mica can do:

disguise: for a brief period of time (about 24 hrs), mica can transform his body and turn into whoever he wishes. kind of? he can’t turn into just anyone, he needs to know what they look like! like 360 view, yknow? the longer he spends time with someone the better his disguise of them comes out. ex. he looks like a literal copy of mei when he disguises as her.

ability duplicate: this goes in hand with his disguise ability! it’s like a DLC to it, lol. he’s able to replicate one ability from whoever he disguised himself as. he doesn’t choose which ability and it’s like a lottery kind of thing. (when this applies to rp i’ll ask ofc what ability he can take and if he should take one tbh.)

inherent abilities:

heightened senses: foxboy… what more can i say tbh?

above average strength: not even a muvu adjacent thing, he’s just an athletic kind of guy.

items / weapons:

cool and fancy motorcycle: does not have a license for it. cannot legally drive it but doesn’t care. he hasn’t been caught, ok?

pretty expensive jewelry: ….no clue who gave it to him lol!

photo album: using it for blackmail. mei and yu aren’t safe.

starting ability: none

starting item: photo album.

extra:

name is mika but they changed the k to a c for… stage name reasons. he’s whatever about it.

he’s not a catboy, he’s a fox.

5’11… used to be shorter than yu until he had his growth spurt, thinks its funny.

not related to yu and mei biologically, but they still consider each other cousins! they’re family.

tends to leave others on read.

discord id: .understudy.

passcode: i forgot it i kno its in my old apps can i still be allowed in its moni..

[soulmate-game]

Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.

“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.

“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”

“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”

The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.

“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.

“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”

Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”

“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.

“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”

Batman. Froze.

Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.

Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.

He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.

“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.

Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.

To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.

“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.

“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”

Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”

Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”

“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.

“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”

“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”

“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”

“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.

“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”

“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.

The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.

“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”

“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.

“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”

“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“

When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.

“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.

“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”

“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”

“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.

Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.

“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”

The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.

“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.

Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”

“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.

When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.

“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”

[trashcankitty12]

Timmy Headcanons

(Sorry for the wait, life, am I right?)

Timmy Somerville. Cute nerd, badass strategist, and most likely one of the smartest dudes you’ll ever meet.

Poor dude doesn’t always get the recognition he deserves, so here it is. I hope.

(Also, I took the name for his hometown/home city from the comics.)

(Also, these headcanons are mostly for my main verses. “Left” and “The New Company of Light”.)

-Timmy is from Zenith, more specifically, the City of Titania, Zenith’s Capitol.

-It’s just him and his mom and dad, and their robo-cat, Chester. (Timmy named him after a character from his favorite game series.)

-Timmy doesn’t have many family members, as both his parents are also only children and both sets of grandparents live in the warmer climates of Zenith. (There are like… Two or three warm cities/villages in Zenith.)

-But his parents do have lots of friends that are sort of like his ‘aunts and uncles’. (And they spoiled him like they were his family.)

-Honestly Timmy is a bit spoiled as far as family love goes. They have always been supportive of his projects and are just so proud of him.

-He tends to be closer to his dad than to his mom. His dad was more of a stay-at-home dad (he ran his business from home, which was game designing), and his mom worked as a hotshot lawyer on Zenith. (Mostly for copyright claiming and patenting.)

-His dad always let him playtest his games (assuming they weren’t for more mature audiences, Timmy was a bit of a sheltered child about those subjects). And Timmy… Well it started Timmy’s love of them.

-As he got older and more into the mechanics of game design, mechanic-ing in general, his parents let him start using his room as a workshop.

-He used to take everything apart he could get his hands on, and then would put it all back together, good as new. (And sometimes, better.)

-His parents used to suspect he may have some techno-magic because of how the machines responded to him, but they never could prove it.

-(To this day, even the others in his squad question if Timmy has some latent-magical abilities. He tries to laugh it off, but he has found himself wondering too… Even to the point of trying to summon his magic. So far, nothing.)

-His vision started going bad around the time he turned 12. He was averse to getting glasses at first, but his run-in with contacts didn’t go so well… So glasses. (Which sucks when you wear helmets, but he’s come up with specialized helmets for people like him with poor vision. It just took some time to create. And for his mother to help with the copyright and patents.)

-Timmy had braces for a short time after an incident in elementary school messed his mouth up.

-(Dodgeball at Titania Prep was cut-throat. Cut. Throat.)

-Timmy also has an allergy to seafood. Which sucks, because he likes the smell of fried fish and the sauces that come with shrimp… But if he eats it, he can’t breathe and he’d just rather not deal with that.

-He was actually a pretty popular guy at his elementary and middle schools. He was the guy who had access to first-rate games before anyone else did, and he got to have the latest in technology. (And could explain it without it being boring.)

-So how did little Timmy decide to go to Red Fountain?

-His middle school hosted one of those fairs that shows off different high schools that someone could go to. There was Zenithian Prep, which was connected to the main college of Zenith, Zeni Tech. The Eraklyon Institute. The Callistian Artistry School for the Aspiring Youth (what a mouthful). Coventry Academy for Witches and Wizards. And Red Fountain.

-Timmy had been wanting to go to the prep school, just as was expected of him. But Red Fountain just… Spoke to him. He wanted to be different. He wanted to be more than just ‘the smart Zenith kid’. He wanted to standout somewhere. And he kind of liked the idea of the adventures Red Fountain offered.

-So he started his training for the entrance exams. Thankfully, Chester could easily be programmed to be an exercising partner and couldn’t be easily swayed to deviate from the course.

-Granted, the physical part of the exam was hard, but Codatorta saw something in him and personally vouched for him to join the program.

-Timmy’s parents were shocked at first, but since Timmy got in and had expressed such a want to go, they approved and signed the necessary papers. (With the promise that Timmy would bail if it became too much for him. No shame in realizing something wasn’t for you.)

-Not gonna lie, adjusting to Red Fountain life was a bit hard at first, but once he got into the routine, it was second nature.

-Granted, he was never as physically fit as Riven or Sky or Brandon, but he could hold his own in a fight.

-Hand-to-hand fighting isn’t his strong suite, but he is tenacious about it and isn’t afraid to exploit weaknesses his opponent has.

-Thanks to his hand-eye coordination skills from playing video games, he’s actually really good at aiming blasters and performing with a bow and arrows.

-Piloting is his favorite though. He loves getting to ‘play with the ships’ and getting to work on them and fly them around. It’s just… He loves it so much. You guys just don’t understand.

-Please don’t ask him to fight with swords or shields or spears… He does his best and he could hold his own… But it’s just not for him. (He doesn’t have the upper-body strength to really fight and hold up the weapons too. At least, not for long periods. He does well enough just to get passing marks.)

-Strategy is another strong suite of Timmy’s. He loves plotting and looking over maps and creating the battle strategies. (Maybe, just maybe, it makes him think of the Magical Dimension’s version of DnD, but he won’t say that outloud to anyone but Tecna.)

-He also sort of liked the war game drills Red Fountain ran. And the off-world training exercises.

-And okay, he wasn’t a complete fan of the camping trips, but he did have his favorite camping moments. Like bonding with his squad-mates and getting to know more about the people around him.

-(And getting to learn more about people other than Zenithians. Despite being the tech giants of the Magical Dimension, Zenith doesn’t really communicate much with the rest of the realms. So this was a great experience for Timmy and he got to share his adventures with his family who also loved hearing about them.)

-The Sky/Brandon thing did hurt him though. Like he found out early-on who they really were because they weren’t as discreet as they should have been at Red Fountain. But the fact that they didn’t just come to him and admit to him who they were kind of stung. Especially since he was supposed to rely on these guys to be his ‘brothers-in-arms’.

-His crush on Tecna happened early-on too. When he first met her, she made him so nervous and he just couldn’t believe that he was talking to that Tecna Mode, daughter of the owners of Mode Inc., and he just… Almost lost his cool. (Okay he did lose it, but she laughed and joked and that made it so much more bearable.)

-(And the fact that after they started dating, his parents fell in love with her too, just sealed the deal for him.)

-He does tend to go to Helia and Brandon for romantic advice. He knows Tecna loves him as is, but he wants to continue being able to make her feel special and keep the warm-fuzziness going.

-When she was thought to be dead in Omega, Timmy had a full-on meltdown. He went to her memorial at Alfea and he cried like a baby to her parents. He apologized at least half a dozen times to them. But he swore to them he’d bring her back. Alive. Somehow. He swore it.

-It didn’t matter that everyone thought he was crazy or delusional. Tecna was alive and he could feel it. And so could Digit. And if anyone would know if Tecna was really dead, it’d be the damn pixie she was bonded to. So she had to be alive.

-And damn, when he did see her again, when they finally made it back to the ship in one piece… He almost couldn’t bear to let her go. He basically let Helia fly the ship back so he could spend the entire flight holding her. (And she let him, despite not usually being one for PDA.)

-After that, he texted her nearly non-stop for a month, just be sure she was still there. That it wasn’t a dream he’d had. Thankfully, it was all true. She was safe and back at Alfea.

-Timmy has a poor sleep schedule, despite having been training for early morning drills at RF since he was 14. When he’s working on a project though, nothing will stop him from finishing it. (Unless the others literally pull him away.)

-(Which has happened before. Riven will literally just scoop up Timmy and take him to his room and plop him down and be like ‘sleep or I’ll knock you out’.)

-Timmy has a small case of tinnitus due to blaster use and working on the RF ships.

-Timmy also runs mostly on caffeine. Coffee, energy drinks, soda. You name it. (Helia and Nabu have been subtly trying to remove the caffeine over the years, but Tecna keeps enabling him… Or rather, enabling them both since she also runs on caffeine.)

-Timmy has tried his hands at poetry. It’s not the best, but it makes him feel great to work on writing and Tecna absolutely loves the poems he writes for her.

-Stella and Timmy have secretly been working on uniforms for soldiers/cadets in training. She wants them to be a little more stylish and he has some ideas on how to better protect the person wearing them. (And maybe add in some heat/air condition stuff. Those things are super temperamental.)

-And Layla has been helping Timmy stay in shape since they all graduated and moved to Earth. (Well, temporarily relocated to Earth.) She knows he’s slacked a bit on training since he hasn’t been at RF, and he needs to keep on his toes.

-He likes Earth okay, but he has to fight his need to fix everything to be on par with the rest of the Magical Dimension. (Please Bloom? Just one car? Or maybe a computer? Please? Please?)

-Timmy loves when they have game-night at the loft. Even if it tends to end in screaming matches between Stella, Riven, Musa, and Tecna. (So many super-competitive people in one place.)

-He has discovered that he makes the ‘best sweet tea’. At least, according to Bloom. (He doesn’t understand her or what this ‘sweet tea’ is… He’s honestly just pretty sure he ruined a thing of tea… But hey… Earth is weird.)

-Timmy hopes that after all of this ‘saving the magical dimension’ stuff is over, he and Tecna will get to live a quiet life. Or at least one where their inventions and games blow-up and they get to bring joy to others’ lives.

-(But first, the Magical Dimension needs to stop needing to be saved. And like hell that’ll happen.)

[c0smicnyu]

interstellar - a Peter Parker AU - ch. 1

also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29082408/chapters/71388948

chapter word count: 2240 

story summary:

Peter was 6 when he was stolen from Earth and put into the Yon-Rogg's, by extension the Kree's, care. Peter was 12 when his entire genetic makeup was altered. Peter was 13 when he was fished from the waters, years having passed. Now on Earth and under Nick's care, he has to maneuver through life with his awesome abilities, alien invasions and geniuses wearing cool armor or shapeshifting into green balls of anger. Oh, and he's also trying to find the meaning to life but who isn't in this day and age?

chapter summary:

Peter’s life with the Kree and how he ended up on Earth.

(Hala, Kree Civilization)

Yon-Rogg was confused. There was a small, human creature in front of him. The kid from Earth was looking up at him with bright brown eyes, messy curls sitting on top of his really small head.

He was told to come to this room because this was where he was going to oversee the experiment involving Vers and her extraordinary abilities. With their proficiency in genetic engineering, they found a way to implant Vers’ abilities into other specimens. They told him they were going to create a soldier with the same abilities as Vers, through dissecting her DNA and isolating the one where the enhanced chromosomes were. Then they would tie it into the subject’s DNA, creating a new and enhanced specimen.

However, all trials have failed so far.

Then he was given a mission.

“Train him. When you think he’s ready, we will name him as one of the possible candidates in the TS: Vers experiment.”

With a new purpose, he would move. He would be damned if he didn’t do his job well and serve the Kree. If the Supreme Intelligence says train the kid, then he will take the kid under his wing and train him to be the best warrior the Kree has ever seen. “Hey, I’m Yon-Rogg. I’m one of the warriors here.” He said with a smile. “What’s your name?”

The kid blinked at him before answering. “I’m Peter. I think I was stolen from Earth. I don’t remember much, just my name.”

Yon-Rogg could work with that. An amnesiac is easy to mold, a kid with little and ephemeral memories at that. “Hm, well then. I’ll be taking care of you from now on. I’ll train you so you could protect yourself and by extension, the Kree civilization. Is that okay with you?”

Peter shrugged, brown curls bouncing. “I don’t mind. This place is really cool, by the way. Your eyes are cool too! And so are the blue people!”

Yon-Rogg just smiled. He wasn’t sure if he could get used to this amount of bright enthusiasm.

--

Yon-Rogg introduced Peter to Vers and they hit it off, much to his amusement. They both shared the overly emotional side of humans, which he was trying to get rid of. A soldier can’t perform their duty well with emotions mucking things up.

Another thing that Yon-Rogg realized throughout his time as Peter’s mentor was his above average intellect and superb locomotor skills. Even at age 8, sparring against people twice his size, he was able to find ways to knock them down.

He was agile and smart, able to use his supposed weaknesses as a strength against his opponents. He wielded his opponents abilities against them, turning their greatest strengths into the cause of their downfall.

So he got the kid tested.

He was right. The kid was a bonafide prodigy with an IQ of 170 at age 9.

Thinking about it objectively, genius was a double-edged sword.

With the amount of secrets the Kree keep, a genius in their midst could make or break their entire civilization.

Peter could help improve and revolutionize or he could break everything they worked for apart, tearing it down and burning it to the ground.

However, watching the young warrior interact with all the other soldiers and making a name for himself filled him with a sense of pride.

It was at that moment he realized he was getting attached to the child.

Spending time with him, bringing him books from his former planet and mentoring him closely was interfering with his mission.

So when he turned 12, after 6 years of training with him, Vers and his team, it was time that he drafted the kid into the roster of candidates.

“Peter. Come with me.” He called the kid from Vers’ room, the pair talking about random things the young teen knew about Earth.

He jumped up and walked towards Yon-Rogg with an easy grin. “What’s up?”

“It’s time.”

Peter’s eyes widened, a wide grin spreading on his lips. “Are you serious?! I’m getting deployed before Vers?!”

Yon-Rogg felt sad but the Kree came before anything else. 

“Yes. Follow me.”

Yon-Rogg led the kid to the experimentation room. Peter looked around the room with confusion. “This doesn’t--” He turned to see Yon-Rogg pointing a gun at him.

“Wha?”

“I’m sorry, Peter. But this is for the good of all Kree.”

Light, then darkness.

--

Vers was devastated with Peter’s death.

She considered him a younger brother and despite Yon-Rogg’s constant reminders of disregarding her feelings, she truly held love for him.

She used his death as a fuel for her training. She did her best so she could finally serve and bring justice to Peter by killing the Skrull once and for all.

Her hard work paid off and it was time.

She would kill those sons of bitches.

--

“The geneticists say that TS: Vers was a success. Please proceed to the disclosed location and provide confirmation.”

Coincidentally, the experiment’s success coincided with Vers’ first mission. Yon-Rogg mused on that fact as he walked through the metal walkways that lead to the room where Peter was held for the past month.

They finally succeeded after 15 failed attempts.

They were unsure what was so different about the kid, other than his terran descent. Maybe that was it. Since both Vers and Subject 16 were humans, their genetic makeups were closer to one another and made it easier for the enhanced chromosomes to tie in.

Now that he was looking at the kid, other than some feature similarities with Vers that got changed through the insertion of genes, there was no way of telling whether he truly got her superpowered abilities.

“Are you sure it worked?” He asked the head scientist, still eyeing the kid who was reading a book from C-53. It was about something called Calculus, which he was sure he brought from the planet a few years back.

“Yes it did. He has an amazing ability to carry 5 tons right now at age 6. His senses are also enhanced to the point where he can tell when something is hurtling towards him, much like a sixth sense.” The scientist said, pointing at his chart on the hologram. “He can also heal very quickly. It’s possible that his blood can be used to create cures for diseases, along with creating antibodies and poison antidotes. His abilities will increase as he grows and there’s no telling whether there’s a limit on it. The experiment was very successful.”

“Anything else?” Yon-Rogg asked as he read through the outstanding ratings the kid had on both his powered abilities and combat abilities.

Peter’s latent talent was truly remarkable and he couldn’t wait till they could finally use him to decimate the Skrulls.

“Am I allowed to talk to him?” Yon-Rogg asked.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” The scientist asked dryly. “The last thing he remembers before this room was you, his mentor, pointing a gun at him. He’s superpowered now. He could kill you with one blast.”

Yon-Rogg frowned. “Point taken. Give me the copies of his results and I will report to the Supreme.”

As the scientist passes Yon-Rogg the folders, the glass before them shook with a loud blast sound echoing in the room.

They looked at Peter, surprise flitting onto their faces.

He was now standing before the two-way mirror, staring directly at Yon-Rogg.

“I will find Vers and I will tell her just what a lying scumbag you are. You better sleep with one eye open now, Yon-Rogg.” Peter threatened, eyes dark as he glared at his former mentor.

The man didn’t reply and just left the room, feeling Peter’s burning gaze on him as he walked away.

--

Peter put his plan of escape into work a day after Yon-Rogg visited his humble cell.

He blasted the doorway to bits with a photon blast and immediately made his way to Vers’ chambers, however the room was empty.

He cursed, remembering what Yon-Rogg said in the hallway. Vers was already deployed.

He immediately switched course and made his way to the hangar. He listened in on the conversations, trying to catch wind of where Vers was.

“Did you hear? Vers was on C-53 and she found Mar-Vell’s lab! Yon-Rogg and his team are apprehending her.”

Peter froze. She was on C-53.

During his solitary time in the metal cube of torture, he was able to listen in on different conversations. He found out the true enemy in the Kree-Skrull War and how the Kree made it their life mission to destroy any means of refuge for the Skrull.

He found out that his true purpose was to become a weapon for the annihilation of the Skrull.

When he found out, he wanted to tell Vers immediately. However, he was too busy getting tested by the douchebags that experimented on him and prodded his body with needles.

He had to help her.

So he hijacked a pod and hacked into Yon-Rogg’s ship, stealing their coordinates from their GPS with a smirk. It was time he put these powers to use and reunite with Vers.

--

He arrived at the lab after a few, hearing the current fight happening within the huge hunk of metal.

He landed his pod and ran into the interior, looking for the source of the sound. He turned on the corner, spotting a bunch of Kree cornering a man, a woman and a cat?

“Hey! Get away from them!” Peter blasted the gun wielding Kree.

“Holy shit! There are two of you?!” The man holding a cat exclaimed, the woman beside him sporting a look of surprise.

“Who are you? And what do--” He remembered the photon blast. “Vers! You know her! Where is she?”

“You mean Carol? She’s--” The woman was cut off by a glowing blonde woman holding a lunchbox with a bunch of characters on it.

Peter stared at her, a grin spreading onto his lips. “VERS!”

Carol was tired and she had no time to deal with another Skrull impersonation of someone important to her. “Talos, this isn’t funny! We have no time for this! Take the--”

Peter took huge strides forward and wrapped Carol in a hug, arms around her midsection.

“Did Yon-Rogg seriously tell you I died? More like they injected your DNA into me.” Peter said before removing his arms from around her. He shot a photon blast at an incoming Kree. Carol looked at him with surprise, the grin on Peter’s lips just widening. “Now we’re twinning!”

“What the heck, kid!” Carol grinned, hugging him. Then she realized they really had no time, shoving the tesseract into his arms. “We’ll unpack that later. Take the tesseract and get going. You cover them, okay? Get to the QuadJet. Stay alive. We will talk later. I’ll buy you time.” Then she was gone.

Peter saluted, putting the cube before the cat which he realized was a Flerken. Its mouth opened, eating it whole. Peter smiled and patted its head. He looked at the man and woman.

“Hi, I’m Peter! I was with Vers… Carol? On Hala. We trained together. Then they faked my death before experimenting on me! Nice to meet you!” Peter said as he ran his hand down Goose’s spine.

“I’m Fury.” “Maria.”

They both gave him uncertain looks however his grin never faltered. “Okay! As per Carol’s request, I will protect you as we go to the QuadJet. Let’s go.”

They rounded the corner and Peter made sure they went through the ways where there weren’t any people. Then he heard a group of Skrulls in the intersecting hallway. He ran there, spotting the shapeshifters.

“Hey! Come on, let’s get onto the QuadJet! I’ll cover everyone!”

They eventually got to the hanger, running towards the jet at top speed. As they ran, Peter felt his hair rise. He shoved Goose into Fury’s arms and stopped running, eyeing the Kree.

“Get going! I’ll catch up!” He grunted as he fought against the Kree, distracting them from the currently boarding Skrulls and humans.

Once he was done with them, the jet was already up. He flew into the slowly closing doors, gasping as he laid on the cold metal floor.

“Hey, Peter! Are you Carol’s kid?” Maria asked as she flew the jet into the Earth’s atmosphere.

“No. We trained together for 7 years though. She was like a huge mentor figure to me, aside from the lying scum--” He was cut off by the jet suddenly lurching.

He sighed. There was just no resting, huh?

“Let me out, Maria! I’ll get her off your tail!” Peter instructed, arms already glowing brilliantly.

Maria was torn. The kid was the same age as hers and she wouldn’t be able to carry a kid’s death on her conscience. Against all her beliefs, she opened the doors and let Peter out. She just hopes the kid would be safe and comes back.

Peter flew out and onto Minn-Erva’s pod, blasting it with holes before proceeding to carry it off. He flew out of the Earth’s atmosphere and tossed the pod just as it exploded.

He was preoccupied, so he never saw it coming.

He never saw the large ship coming towards him.

He was flying, then falling. Then he was gone as he sunk into the ocean, swallowed by the icy waves as he lost consciousness.

[yo-ho-egos]

Some Basic Info and Backstory on Captain Magnum:

His full title is Captain Magnum, Pirate Lord of the Caribbean and Omen of the Storm. However, he rarely uses the latter portion anymore.

His backstory is roughly based on that of Davy Jones in the Pirates of the Carribian series, but with quite a few major changes.

Magnum has been a sailor his whole life. Born and raised on the sea, and spent more time on it than on land. Fairly early on in his life, he found himself as Captain of a Privateer ship. At one point, his ship was given a shipment to be made to an island off the coast of Norway. It was an odd route, as he typically ran shipments to the Caribbean, but a job was a job, and it paid well, so he accepted it. The ship got caught up in a storm and capsized.

Magnum was sure he was going to die when he felt a net wrap around him. However, at that point he was so exhausted from fighting the waves that he passed out. Some time later he awoke on a beach, no net around him, and no sign of any wreckage around. He got up and began looking around for any sign of what had happened. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he saw a woman standing waist-deep in the water. He tried to run out to her, but quickly found himself in deep water and hardly any closer to her. He shouted to try to get her attention, and she turned. Seeing him in the water she ducked into the water and quickly reappeared beside him, now at a realistic size. She dragged him back to the beach.

The two spent a lot of time together, and through that time he found that she was the goddess Rán. He had gotten caught in her net that was only meant to catch the spirits of drowned sailors. So him being alive and caught caught her attention. Eventually Rán had to go back to her duties as a goddess, which had doubled since her husband Ægir had faded from existence, but not before giving Magnum a three gifts. A portion of her net, a portion of her immortality, and a new ship to sail her waters that was impervious to storms. The seas people sailed on had gotten bigger, and even she couldn’t be everywhere at once. Their time together had lead her to trust him with some of her duties. Magnum asked when he’d be able to see her again. She promised that if he came back to this island in ten years time, she’d be there.

He spent those ten years doing his newfound duty well. He named his ship The Sea Maiden and had the bow carved into Rán’s likeness, complete with the piece of her net she’d given him in her hand. Seeing the ship on the Horizon became an omen for sailors. A warning. Many ships saved themselves from storms by returning to port after seeing her. And those that didn’t were caught in his net and guided to the other side. People even began leaving offerings next to the ship whenever it came into port. It was thought that seeing the ship in port rather than out on the sea was a good omen and leaving something would bring favorable winds.

Magnum himself rarely left the ship, as he found that being off of the sea left him feeling incomplete. But he had his crew gather the offerings and bring them on. Anything of value that wouldn’t rot was stored away. Kept to be a gift for her when the ten years were up. When the time came, he made his way back to that island and waited. He placed the offerings in a beautiful pattern on the beach and sat among them, watching the horizon for her. For once he felt just fine on land, excitement at the thought of seeing her again keeping him awake even as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. Even as he watched it rise again the next morning.

He waited three days before doubts began to come into his mind. His crew began growing restless. Days turned to weeks before he finally realized that she wasn’t coming. He stood, leaving the treasures on the beach. The feeling of not belonging on land had been slowly eating away at him for a while now, and it had finally grown to be too much to bear. He waited another week on the ship before his crew finally told him that they wouldn’t wait any longer. They wanted to go home. With a heavy heart he sailed off. He refused to let himself grow bitter though. Surely she would have kept her promise if she could’ve, right?.. He vowed to find her and find out why she had left him alone.

He took his crew to shore, gave them pay triple what they were owed, and parted with them. He sailed away alone. The ship was a gift from her, and he had sailed it by himself before. Perhaps the presence of others was why she hadn’t shown herself.

He’s yet to find any trace of her, but still every ten years he goes back to that island and waits. Hoping for any sign of her.

In his search, his duties have fallen by the wayside, which has lead to a few side affects. The main one is that being on land for more than a few hours at a time now makes him violently ill, except for one day every ten years on that island. The other big one is the physical changes. Deities are not meant to shirk their duties, and in giving him a bit of her immortality, Rán basically made him a minor god. The sea itself punishes him, slowy taking more of his human form the longer he willfully ignores his position. The process is slow, as his humanity is still a strong part of who he is, but still.

There are ways to stop the transition, but he doesn’t know them, so he simply hides the strange changes with magic from some other members of the crews

There are still small sects that leave offerings for The Omen of the Storm, especially those that frequent the same waters, as his latent abilities still cause sailors within a certain radius of him to know when a potentially dangerous storm is approaching.

He doesn’t know he’s a minor god, all he knows is that he hasn’t aged a day since he left that island the first time, he’s got a job that he’s ignoring, and going on land is a bad idea for him.

[randomnotesofmyown]

Psycho-Pass (11-12)

Episode 11 - Saint's Supper Recap: Tsunemori and Masaoka went in to look for Kogami while the rest of division one stayed on the ground surface to deal with the jamming.

Ginoza admitted to others that he wasn't sure what was going on. Kagari replied that, judging from how desperate Kogami sounded, the matter must have been very serious.

Senguji was still trying to hunt down Kogami. One of the PSB drones appeared and found Kogami.

Kagari walked with another drone and found the source of interference. He kicked it over.

An electric hound dashed to attack the PSB drone that located Kogami. Kogami ran to the drone and retrieved a dominator, and managed to destroy that hound with a destroy decomposer model.

Kogami got up and Senguji fired again. It hit him this time.

Kogami tried to work out how to defeat Senguji.

"His appearance...silence after every two shots...The enemy's weapon must be a double-barreled hunting gun.

Cut to Makishima. He commented into the earpiece, "Unfortunately, your time is up. The jamming has been broken. Soon the main unit of the PSB will rush in." Senguji replied with a sad and fearful voice that Lovecraft was taken out. "Shot and destroyed. He finally started shooting back."

Then, Senguji continued speaking with renewed strength. "When I was young, I often took part in construction work on infrastructure in developing countries. The more dangerous the place was, the more money I earned. Conflicts often occurred suddenly, and there was a limit to our ability to predict scenarios and manage risk. There was a time we were attacked by guerillas in one of those countries. I think it was at least 70-80 years ago. Then, too, the colleague sitting next to me was shot. My friend, who had been crying and shouting just a moment earlier, had now turned into nothing but a lump of flesh. His blood splattered and dripped down my head. and his smell stuck to my entire body. I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but for me that was a good memory. That time, I felt alive...I felt really alive...I felt it more strongly than I have felt in my entire life. However, I'm experiencing that feeling once again right now."

"Once again, the blood has been set afire in this mechanical heart of mine. And now, you're telling me to run? That would be cruel." "But from here on, it won't be just a game." "That's exactly right. As a hunter, I've shot down lots of prey over the course of many years. But now, I want to confront that man as a duelist. Makishima, surely you didn't muck around with my game to see me turn tail here, did you?" "You're exactly right. I'll see your life's splendor until the very end."

And the cat and mouse chase went on. Kogami fired a shot at Senguji, hit him in the arm. Senguji retaliated and shot Kogami in the stomach.

Again, Ode to Joy played in the background as the game continued. Seeing the trail of blood, Senguji was sure that the Enforcer would soon see his end. But the person he saw was Funehara Yuki. Kogami pointed a dominator at Senguji

He fired. The end of Senguji.

Kogami told Funahara to get out of there and seek therapy as soon as she could. “You saw...too many things that you shouldn’t have.” The heavy blood loss from the gunshot wounds took its toll on Kogami. The enforcer slumped to the floor, drifting in and out of consciousness when Makishima approached, handcuffed Funahara and took her away with him. The dominator was out of reach, Kogami could only watch as Makishima walked away.

Tsunemori and Masaoka got to the hunting ground. They found the injured Kogami. Masaoka turned to the drone that went along with them to get the first aid kits while Kogami told Tsunemori about her friend being taken away.

Tsunemori ran off on her own in the direction Kogami pointed.

Ginoza and Kagari inspected the hunting ground and were guessing how many people had died there. An incoming message from Masaoka

Ginoza and the others got to Kogami, and Masaoka ran off in the way Tsunemori had gone.

Tsunemori caught up with Makishima. She pointed her dominator at Makishima. But the coefficient of Makishima was below 100, and the dominator became locked.

Tsunemori ordered Makishima to drop his weapon and surrender.

Makishima replied, "In order to buy some time until your reinforcements arrive, shouldn't you make our conversation lively? I'm sure an experienced detective would make that determination." 

"When you said 'multiple crimes', which were you referring to? Mido Masatake? Ouryou Rikako? I think that there's value in people only when they act based on their will. So I've asked many people about their suppressed free will and observed their actions all this time." "Don't be so full of yourself! You're just a criminal! " "How do you define crime to start with? That dominator you're holding...Does the Sibyl system that governs that gun decide it?'

Tsunemori pointed her dominator at Makishima again

"By analyzing a bio-organism's force field readings by a cymatic scan, they figure out how a person's mind works. The intelligence of science finally uncovered the secret of souls, and this society changed drastically. However, people's wills are not a part of that assessment. I wonder just what sort of criteria you use to divide people into good and evil?" "I want to see the splendor of people's souls. I want to check and see if it really is precious. However, when humans base their lives around Sibyl's oracle, without ever consulting their own wills, do they really hold any value?" Makishima tossed the shotgun at Tsunemori and went on, "Well, while I'm here, I guess I'll try testing you. too. To assess your judgment and actions as a detective." Makishima chained Funahara to the pole with another handcuff. 

"I'm going to kill this woman, Funahara Yuki...right before your eyes." Tsunemori's third scan of Makishima:

"If you want to stop me, instead of using that useless piece of scrap icon, you can pick up the gun I just gave you and use it. If you pull the trigger, a bullet will come out." "Th-there is no way I can do it, because you are..."

Because I’m a good civilian? Because Sibyl decided so?"

Tsunemori started questioning why.

"I don't know why, either. I've been wondering about it since my childhood. My psycho-pass has always been pure white. It never got clouded, not even once. All sorts of vital reactions in my body must be affirming me, thinking that my actions are those of one who is sound and good." "You guys can't measure my sins. If there is someone who can judge me, it would only be those who can become a killer based on their own will."   Tsunemori picked up the shotgun and demanded Funahara be released. "Or..." "Or I'll be killed...by your intent to kill. That would be a precious ending in its own way." "Now you feel the importance of life in your index finger, don't you? As long as you're a puppet of Sibyl, you can never experience that. That's the weight of decision and free will." Again, Tsunemori did a scanning on Makishima.

"Descartes said that those who can't make a decision can't do so because either their desires are too great, or they lack intellect. What's wrong? Unless you hold it firmly, the bullet will miss me."

"Now, aim at me with the intention to kill." Tsunemori, shaking all over, fired. Twice. And both missed the target. 

Tsunemori dropped the gun.

"How regrettable. How very regrettable. Inspector Tsunemori Akane." "You disappointed me. So I have to give you a punishment."

A trembling Tsunemori begged Makishima to stop.

Makishima slit Funahara's throat. Tsunemori screamed and sunk to the floor.

Kogami came to and asked about Tsunemori.

Kogami, on a stretcher, padded Tsunemori and asked what happened. "I met...that man." "Makishima Shogo can't be judged by the Dominator!"

End of episode 11.

episode 12 - Devil's crossroad

With a change in the opening theme song, this episode marked the start of part two of the season. The episode began by looking at things that took place three years ago. Kunizuka Yayoi dreamt of herself practiced playing a guitar behind the stage in a disco, she cut herself on the strings of that guitar. Someone approached her to help. She woke up to find herself in a detention cell. 

Ginoza invited Kunizuka to become an Enforcer. "Sibyl determined that you have the aptitude for it. I think this is an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you."

"Does that mean...my Psycho-Pass will never recover?"

She didn't say yes and remained in there for more than six months. All that time her readings stayed above 100.

Ginoza visited Kunizuka again. Kunizuka was about to reject the invitation again, but Ginoza told her it was about a different matter this time. Entered Kogami, who explained that an antisocial club had been found in the Kitazawa area. And they would like Kunizuka to help, as she used to be a guitarist in the area.

Kogami got a call from Sasayama, who became tired of waiting. Ginoza left to join Sasayama while Kogami continued trying to persuade Kunizuka.

In the car, Sasayama was puzzled that a musician had become a latent criminal. Ginoza replied, "I hear that there are many cases of people's hues getting clouded when they become deeply involved in their art. It probably means that a strong affection like art that moves people can be a medicine and a poison as well. That's exactly why it started requiring prior approval."

"And then an approved artist ends up becoming a latent criminal? Good grief." Sasayama said, then he asked if Kunizuka would become an Enforcer. When Ginoza told him the girl wanted to return to society, Sasayama laughed, saying she was naïve.

Kunizuka made clear again that she didn't want to become an Enforcer. "I refused. I don't wanna do things that could cloud my Hue like that."

Kogami asked if Kunizuka wanted to leave the correction center and play music again, and checked on the number of rejected requests she made to obtain guitar strings. Kunizuka angrily demanded Kogami to leave. However, Kogami produced a pack of guitar strings that Kunizuka wanted so badly, and Kunizuka was surprised. Setting sight on it, Kunizuka recalled the moment when the stranger painted her fingernails, her own team member came to pull her away, scolding her that getting close to an unauthorized musician would result in her Hues becoming clouded.

That stranger then left to prepare for another performance while Kunizuka's team member said they should go home. Kunizuka said she wanted to listen to the music of that band.

"Music by an unauthorized band is worthless!" "I think making music that curries favor with Sibyl is what's worthless, though." The stranger retorted.

Kunizuka finally agreed to help. She explained to the PSB agents the venues the group of people being referred to as an antisocial community would most likely use as their base of operation: Yellow Hood or 27 Club.

Sasayama infiltrated 27 Club while Masaoka got inside Yellow Hood. Both reported they found nothing yet.

Ginoza, Kogami and Kunizuka waited on a PSB vehicle. They started talking, Kogami told Kunizuka that almost no latent criminals returned to society with a normal state of mind, they either ended up being executed or became accustomed to a life in the place where things were continually taken from them. But Kogami added that Kunizuka might be able to overcome it with a strength of will. "And there is another way," Kogami continued as he handed a dominator to Kunizuka. "If you want to escape a life of continually having everything taken from you, you can join the side doing the taking."

A message from Sasayama reporting that he noticed some fishy people. Kunizuka recognized the voice singing in the background.

Sasayama went to talk to the people he found suspicious and requested to take a look at what was inside a paper bag. Then, without opening the bag, Sasayama determined that inside the bag were Molotov cocktails and immediately subdued one of the targets, the other fled. Chaos ensued. As the agents called for reinforcements, Kunizuka went inside the club to try to find the singer, Rina.

Kunizuka found her. Rina asked why was Kunizuka there and was taken aback when Kunizuka told her that she came with people from the PSB. Rina's friends caught up with her. They appeared with a bag of Molotov Cocktails.

Rina told them to move on, she would catch up with them later. The gang moved on. Kunizuka asked Rina what she was doing.

Rina said they were a resistance force that aimed to overthrow the Sibyl system. "Why don't you fight with us?" Rina asked. "I can't do that." "Why not? Because you're authorized?" "No, that's not it." "You know how wrong the current society is, don't you? Even if you elect politicians in token elections, they're just figureheads. As long as all the bureaucrats are chosen by the Sibyl system, calling it a democracy is just a big fat lie! People have all become slaves of Sibyl, giving it control over their lives, and yet they haven't noticed! But our music will definitely become a major force! We can move people's hearts! We'll change the world with our music!" "That's not what it was about for me!" "Yayoi..." "It wasn't about that at all! All this time...I just wanted to stand on stage again with you. That's all I wanted!" "That's not enough! When you were institutionalized, I realized how powerless I was. Just having fun won't solve anything! If you don't have power, it's totally pointless!" "Totally pointless?" "That's right! We need power! Yayoi!" "Everything was fine as it was...but things changed, huh?" Kunizuka pointed the dominator she carried with her at Rina and tried to persuade Rina to join her undergoing a rehab program. Conversation over. Rina started walking away to catch up with the others, ignoring Kunizuka. Not being registered on the list of authorized users, Kunizuka could not shoot with that dominator.

Kogami and Sasayama found Kunizuka. After some considerations, the former musician now agreed to become an Enforcer.

And with that decision, Kunizuka gave up on her dream of playing music again.

End of episode 12.

Comment: Episode Eleven: An episode with a heavy ending that came both from Makishima's words and Tsunemori's failure. The weight in Makishima's words was that, in such an extreme scenario, taking an action based on a decision made independent of the system that Tsunemori had come to rely so heavily on, and failing to act based on it, came with huge moral consequences either way. Tsunemori would either become a murderer or someone who failed to save her friend's life. It involved a life in both ways, either Makishima killed her friend or she killed Makishima, Tsunemori wanted neither and she couldn't act the way she knew she should.

She was aware that a life was at stake, that despite Makishima was about to kill, the Sibyl system did not register a coefficient reading high enough to authorize activation of the lethal mode, and that killing Makishima with the shotgun was the only way to save Funahara. Yet she couldn't bring herself to aim at Makishima. She failed to save her friend. And she blamed herself for that failure. Seeing a friend die after having missed the opportunity to prevent it by means of killing a person whose coefficient dropped all the way to zero, Tsunemori experienced trauma, helplessness, frustration and grief. This was one of the moments that made me feel the emotions of the character. It was unsettling, it was powerful.

Episode twelve: A takeaway from this episode was that the Sibyl system did not like people with passion. It determined that people with passion beyond its allowed range were dangerous to society. And thus it became a censor determining how and what people could express with their arts. But arts was not supposed to be confined. I could identify with Rina's position. And yet, by trying to overthrow what she considered to be evil, she became evil herself. And that was...sad. It was also sad that Kunizuka Yayoi, so eager to get her old life back, to relive her dream, ended up forsaking them.

[warlordfelwinter]

Oracle :: Chapter 9 :: Mercury

.

.

"What… what is this place?"

Delphi turned slowly, looking around at the space he had stepped into. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find walking through the portal of that giant pyramid on Mercury. The space felt distinctly Vex and yet not. Peaceful, in a way, and safe.

"Home sweet home," a voice said and he spun around as a ghost with a sun-like shell floated into the room, ahead of a warlock who eyed Delphi curiously.

"Sagira!" Athena said, zipping over to her.

"It's good to see you again, Athena," the warlock said. "I see you found your guardian."

"I did," she said. "Delphi, meet Osiris."

"Hi..." Delphi said, somewhat warily. "Sorry. All I know about you is what the Speaker told me, which wasn't much."

"Hah, and I imagine it was not good," Osiris said. "I invite you to form your own judgements."

Delphi looked away, observing the architecture again. It kept shifting. "Where are we?"

"Technically, the Infinite Forest," Osiris said as the ghosts drifted off, talking amongst themselves. Delphi got the feeling they used to be friends. "This place is a kind of safe house that Sagira and I have carved out."

"The Infinite Forest is Vex, yes?" Delphi asked. "It feels..." He didn't want to say familiar. It felt familiar how all Vex technology felt familiar. Latent knowledge in his blood that he didn't want.

"Yes. A probability engine the size of a planet where the Vex run endless experiments, attempting to create their perfect reality."

Delphi shuddered at the thought. The only memories he had from before his death were pain at the hands of Brakion. He didn't relish the thought of what the Vex thought of as the perfect reality.

"You see why I thought it worth watching," Osiris said.

"Yes..." Delphi shook himself. "So, why has your ghost been stalking me?"

Osiris laughed. "You caught her attention, sneaking so effectively through Vex systems. I'll admit I'm curious as well. Your ghost said the Vex think you're one of them. How did you do that?"

"I didn't do anything," Delphi said. He pulled a dagger off his belt and ran the blade lightly across his palm, just enough for radiolarian to well up. "The Genesis Mind did."

Osiris grabbed his hand, looking closely at the blood. "Fascinating."

"If you say so," Delphi said.

"How are you alive? I didn't realize the Vex had achieved an ability to meld their technology with flesh yet."

Delphi shrugged. "I wasn't. The experiment itself killed me, but Athena found me. You'd have to ask her how she managed it." He pulled his hand back and Light buzzed through it as Athena noticed he was injured, healing him from across the room.

Osiris frowned. "What are you looking for?"

"My memory," Delphi said. "I know it has to be in their network somewhere."

"Hm." He thought for a moment. "Sagira and I will help you, if, in return, you allow me to study you."

Delphi smiled and held out his hand. "Deal."

"And not a word of this goes back to the Tower? I don't need renewed interest in hunting me, I'm very busy as it is."

"Only if you promise the same," Delphi said.

Osiris nodded and shook his hand, though he looked curious. "I find it hard to believe a Speaker would be exiled."

"I wasn't, but I'm not going back." Delphi paused, wondering if that was true. "Not until I find what I'm looking for, at least," he amended.

Osiris smiled. "Fair enough. Come, let's get started."

.

.

"It's sort of… beautiful, isn't it?"

Osiris glanced sideways at Delphi. The young warlock sat on the edge of a platform, overlooking the expanse of the Infinite Forest. He had been here for a while now, making little progress on his own quest, and had decided to help Osiris study the Forest. It was remarkably convenient to have someone who could pass as a Vex around.

"It represents millenia of Vex efforts to reshape reality to their desire," Osiris said.

"Well… yeah, but from here it's pretty," Delphi said. He flinched slightly, stifling a grunt, putting a hand to his head. It wasn't the first time Osiris had seen him do something similar. He hadn't asked, assuming it was some pain caused by his Vex alterations.

His eyes opened, glowing solid white, and Athena appeared next to him quickly, trying to put herself between Osiris and her guardian. Unfortunately for her, Sagira had noticed as well.

"Ooh, what's happening?" Sagira asked, floating down in front of Delphi. "That's… whoa… is that...?"

Athena fluffed up her shell slightly, raising her hackles. Before she could say anything, Delphi spoke, and his voice was wrong. It sounded like several voices, layered over each other.

"The heart of the Garden has been torn out—skies clear only briefly—guardians lost in the dark draw the attention of something worse—it's coming to take the Light—the Queen is lost—"

Delphi gasped as the energy left him. Osiris steadied him before he fell off the edge of the platform. Delphi blinked and looked at him, seeming puzzled. He glanced between Osiris, Sagira, and Athena, and winced.

"I started talking, didn't I?" he asked.

"Yeah," Athena said. "Something about a Garden, something coming to take the Light, and a Queen."

"About as much sense as usual, then," Delphi sighed.

"What was that?" Sagira asked. "Your Light was..." She trailed off and Osiris could feel her curiosity and confusion.

"Not mine," Delphi said. He shrugged, seeming uncomfortable. "I told you I was a Speaker. Usually I can block it out, but sometimes the Traveler has something to say."

"I'll be honest," Osiris said, "I didn't realize the Traveler actually spoke." He had, of course, spent a good deal of time with the Speaker before his exile and knew the Speaker at least thought he could hear the Traveler. He hadn't known that there were others and he hadn't known it could briefly possess them.

"I'm not sure it does," Delphi said. "But it dreams quite loudly." He shifted. "Do any of the things I said mean anything to you?"

"The Garden," Osiris said. "It may refer to the Black Garden. Another Vex construct. We heard chatter about a team of guardians breaking in. They must have destroyed whatever darkness was there. The rest… I'm not certain. The Queen may refer to the Queen of the Awoken."

"Do you know her?"

"No."

Delphi visibly deflated at that, disappointed. "The word 'queen' feels… familiar for some reason."

"Her name is Mara Sov, if that rings any bells," Sagira said. "We don't know much about her because the Awoken keep to themselves and Osiris doesn't really care, to be honest."

"Mara Sov..." Delphi said quietly. "That does… I can't remember, but she feels… important."

"Well, you are Awoken," Sagira said. "Maybe she was your Queen in your past life."

"Maybe," Delphi said. "All the more reason to remember, I suppose."

"I've been thinking about that," Osiris said. "We can only find the slimmest connections to the Pyramidion here. Brakion is keeping whatever its doing to itself, only providing the results of its research to the Forest. I doubt it would put forth a failed experiment that escaped. You may need to venture back inside to retrieve your memories."

Delphi exhaled. "I've… thought that too. I had hoped…" His ghost bumped into his cheek reassuringly.

"We'll come with you!" Sagira offered, brightly.

Osiris looked at her sharply and she shifted her shell in what he recognized as a shrug.

"Your reflections will keep an eye on the Forest and it's been ages since we've been out."

"The Vex have a difficult time noticing Delphi. The same isn't true for us."

"I doubt Brakion will fail to notice him and we've got our own tricks," Sagira said. "It'll be fun."

Osiris sighed. "Very well," he agreed, knowing his ghost wouldn't let it go and, on a level, he had become somewhat fond of the young warlock. He did want to make sure he got out of the Pyramidion alive. Delphi beamed, visibly relieved. Osiris stood.

"I have some preparations before I leave the Forest, and then we will depart."

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (39)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, DEADPOOL & X-MEN

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  

Vernichtung - Destruction, Annhialation.

It was what you were named and what you were supposed to be but the only thing you wanted to destroy was Bucky Barnes.

The ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on enjoying it quite so much.

But when your past catches up to you in the form of the mad scientist who made you, Bucky might be one of the only things that can save you from yourself. You can’t run from what you are but with his help, you can fight back.

Current Word Count -  112,357

MASTERLIST  or   Read on Ao3

Moodboard by @talesofakindredspirit

Chapter Thirty Nine - A Reintroduction To Fatherhood

“What’s the emergency?” Tony asked, walking into the common room with Pepper by his side.

“This is yours.” Natasha said, thrusting the screaming child into his arms and he was forced to grab a hold of her.

“Tony!” Pepper screeched.

“Uh.” Tony was looking down at the child who had stopped screaming and was sniffling softy as she threw her arms around his neck.

There was no doubt in his mind who she was but as to how she’d gotten that way...

“Kit Kat?” He said softly and she looked up at him, her eyes wide and confused.

“Kit... What??” Pepper asked, perplexed.

“Hey sweetheart, what happened?” Tony asked the child, ignoring everyone else in favour of his significantly smaller daughter.

“Is this a latent ability?” Pepper asked.

“Nope. Ask Thor.” Clint said.

Tony’s head snapped up and he glared at Thor.

“You did this? Why? How? Is she ok?” He demanded.

Thor shifted guiltily and held up the cat Tony only now noticed he was holding.

“Brother, the jig as the mortals would say, is up.” Thor said, his usually loud and rumbling voice low and soft.

The cat made a huffing noise and Tony turned, shifting his kid away from the Norse God now standing in the middle of the common room. As soon as Loki appeared the toddler in his arms started wriggling and making a strange noise.

“Is she growling?” Clint asked in amusement.

She was in fact growling, her little arms waving madly about as she tried to wriggle free and presumably attack Loki since he was the one she was growling at.

“Pepper, take Kit Kat out of here.” Tony instructed.

“She is in no danger from Loki, presumably that is why he reverted her to a child's form.” Thor tried to assure.

Loki nonchalantly ignored the several many guns aimed at him.

“She intended to tell her father I was here, tattling like a child. I simply stopped her in a justified way.” He said as if it were the obvious thing.

Pepper tried to prise her out of Tony’s arms but the child was stronger than she looked and managed to get free, scampering across the room towards the trickster.

“What’s going o...?” Steve walked in, took on look at Loki, the stand off and the small blur shooting towards the villain and scooped the attacking child up in his arms. Steve had an easier time keeping her still than Tony had.

“She’s stronger than an average kid, what’s going on?” He asked, keeping his eye on Loki.

“Change her back. Now Brother.” Thor urged.

“Change who back?” Bucky asked, coming into the room behind Steve with his gun drawn.

“BUCKY!” The child shrieked.

Bucky frowned at the kid.

“Shoot.” She demanded, pointing at Loki.

The colour drained from Bucky’s face as he looked at her.

“Is this... Is she... Is?” He stammered.

“Thor snuck his brother into the compound in cat form, your girlfriend found out and Loki de-aged her.” Clint summed up.

“Which is why he’s not dead, we don’t want her stuck like this.” Tony snapped.

“Shoot.” The child implored again, her eyes beseeching Bucky.

Bucky stared at her as if in a trance. His face was expressionless and he turned on his heel and walked out of the room without a word.

“I can’t return her to her adult self.” Loki said smugly.

“What?” Several voices asked simultaneously.

“Well I could, provided you don’t shoot me but it will take time.” He said with a shrug.

“Pepper, go. Kit Kat, sweetheart go with Pepper ok? Daddy will take care of the bad man.” Tony cooed gently at the little girl who was glaring at Loki over Steve’s shoulder.

“Come on sweetie, you hungry?” Pepper asked, holding out her arms hopefully.

The girl leapt away from Steve, landing lithely in Peppers hold. Pepper hurried out of the room with her and Tony turned back to Loki.

“I have questions and I’m not above getting Banner downstairs to ask them.”

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

Now that you were away from Loki you were a lot calmer but you couldn’t understand why Bucky had ran away from you. You heard Pepper ask Friday to run some scans of you as she set you down on a chair in her office.

“Alright sweetheart, I don’t know how long you’ll be like this so I’m going to order some things we might need. Do you want some paper? Want to draw a picture?” She asked you.

You nodded sadly and started scribbling lines on the paper while she clicked things on the computer, occasionally asking you to choose between things. The first time it happened you just shrugged and she just got both options so you kept doing that.

About forty minutes later Tony came back in and you looked up at him, dropping the pen and holding your arms out. He picked you up and held you tightly.

“What’s going on? What did you find out?” Pepper asked him.

“I’m going to talk to Pepper alright, stay here for a second.” He told you, ruffling you hair when he put you down.

He walked over to Pepper and kept watching you as you scribbled on the paper again.

“She kind of has her memories but she can’t process them. So she knows who we are and how she feels about us but that’s about it.”

“What about her incredibly dangerous alter ego?” She whispered.

“She’s had it since she was a child, her control over it is intense. I think it’s the same as adult her, as long as she’s happy Vernichtung is locked up.”

“She’s a toddler, how are we supposed to keep her happy?” Pepper wondered out loud.

“Give her cookies and have a tea party? And keep Loki away from her.”Tony suggested.

“What are we doing about Loki?”

A sour look crossed Tony’s face.

“He swears he wasn’t in control during his failed invasion and we need him to turn her back so for now? Keeping a very very close eye on him. And I’m updating Friday’s privacy protocols, I can’t believe Thor just snuck a cat in here.”

There was a tugging at Tony’s sleeve and he looked down at you.

“Cookie?” You asked with an adorably hopeful look.

“At least we know she still has good hearing.” He chuckled.

“It’s dinner time, no cookies.” Pepper said sternly and your lip wobbled.

“One won’t hurt, it’s alright sweetheart, if you want a cookie you can have a cookie.” Tony assured you, picking you up and carrying you into the kitchen.

“Tony you can’t spoil her!” Pepper called after him.

“Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you.” He called back.

Your giggling drifted back into her office and since nobody could see her, Pepper allowed herself to smile softly.

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

One cookie turned into two, then three.

“You have an enhanced metabolism.” Tony reasoned out loud as he handed you a fourth.

“Thank you.” You said sweetly.

“Kit Kat, you know who I am right?” He asked.

“Dad.” You said, smiling brightly at him.

“And you know everybody else? Like the lady with the red hair?”

“Natassa.” You said as if it were obvious.

“Ok, what’s the last thing you remember before you were littler?”

You frowned, your little forehead crinkling up.

“Bad Kitty.” You said.

“What about this morning? Do you remember what happened?”

“Uhh bad Ross.” You said with an evil little smirk he recognised and Natasha’s.

He’d never noticed it on your adult face until he thought about it and realised you’d taken on Natasha as a role model.

Sam walked into the kitchen slowly, his eyes on you.

“Sammy!” You cried happily, crawling across the counter top towards him.

“So it’s true. I though Cap was pulling my leg.” Sam said shakily.

“Nope, my kid is an actual kid.” Tony said.

You made it to the edge of the counter and Tony and Sam both shot forward to grab you as you wiggled like you were going to pounce off it. Sam grabbed you first and held you at arms length as he gazed down at you.

“I was in a strip club with her a few hours ago.” Sam whispered, horrified.

“You were what?” Tony said, half impressed, half annoyed.

“She was an adult! It was Deadpool’s idea!” He defended himself.

“WADE!” You said excitedly.

“No!” Tony said.

“No!” Sam said at the same time.

You pouted.

“So what do we do with her?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean what do we do? She’s still my daughter, just a little more pocket sized. I’ll look after her like I always have, only difference is it’s a little easier now. And instead of Strip Clubs maybe just watch a Disney movie with her.” Tony said, taking you back from Sam.

“Man you are taking this way too calmly.”Sam noted.

“Children can pick up on your emotions and my girl is smarter than most. I have to stay calm.” Tony explained but Sam squinted at him suspiciously.

“You’re happy about this.” He stated.

“No.”

“It’s alright Stark. You can give her the world but you were never able to give her a normal childhood and that always bothered you. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Don’t do your therapist thing on me in front of the baby.” Tony admonished.

“Don’t hide behind her. You need to be honest with yourself here.” Sam pushed.

“No. Bad Sam.” You scolded him with a serious look on your little face.

“That’s absolutely right, Bad Sam.”Tony sniggered, loving your protective attitude of him.

“Traitor.” Sam said to you and you responded by sticking your tongue out at him.

“Man, she’s even sassy as a toddler. I’m not sure we can cope with this.” Sam bemoaned.

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

“You have to eat something other than cookies. If I don’t give you dinner Pepper will kill me.” Tony pleaded.

There was a clattering noise from the kitchen and Steve poked his head in to see Tony frowning at the sandwich on the floor while you were looking the picture of innocence.

“oops” You said.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked.

“Cookie?” You asked Steve.

“Sure, you can have a cookie. If you eat your dinner.” He negotiated.

You scowled crossly at him.

He crossed his arms and stared you down.

“Cap, she’s a child not an enemy soldier.” Tony said, snapping his fingers between you to make you blink.

Neither you or Steve wavered. Tony sighed heavily and shoved the sandwich in the bin.

“Soup?” He offered.

No response. He glanced back at you to see you and Steve hadn’t moved.

“Alright, no soup. Mac and Cheese?” He suggested.

He noticed your eyes staring to water with the lack of blinking. You clenched you jaw and made a strangled huffing noise.

“I think that a yes on Mac and Cheese.” Steve said victoriously.

“Congrats Captain Babysitter, you won a staring contest with a toddler. As your reward, you can feed her.” Tony said, backing away.

“Tony...” Steve warned.

“Bye bye sweetie, daddy will come back after you eat.”Tony said, escaping quickly.

Steve sighed and turned back to you.

“Babydoll, do you know why Wade Wilson is texting me?” He asked faux casually as he started pouring pasta into a pot.

“Sam gave him your number. They getting married.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Where’s Bucky?” You asked softly.

“Bucky is away on a very very important mission.” He lied.

You looked terrified and Steve realized that while adult you could rationalize that Bucky was able to look after himself, child you couldn’t and was now worried.

“Not a dangerous one! He’s gone to collect an important file from a very nice agent, that’s all. He’s gone to.... Australia. To get a file.” Steve said quickly.

“Liar.” You huffed.

He couldn’t even lie convincingly to a child.

“If you eat your dinner and go to bed I’m sure Bucky will come and see you in the morning.” Steve promised.

You looked up him hopefully and seemed to consider it for a moment before you nodded once, decisively.

Steve sighed in relief and hoped he could convince Bucky to talk to you.

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

“No.”

“Bucky...”

“She’s a toddler Steve. The woman I love has been turned into a child by a Norse God who has been masquerading as a cat. It’s just too weird, I can’t be around her until she’s herself again.”

“She misses you Buck. She wouldn’t eat until I promised you’d talk to her tomorrow.”

“Just drop it Steve.”

“You’re being an idiot and you’re really hurting her feelings.” Steve said exasperatedly.

“She’s a toddler!” Bucky repeated.

“Yes, but it’s still her in there.”

“I’ll think about it.” Bucky huffed, hoping to just get Steve to shut up.

There was a battle cry from the hallway and a small commotion.

“Kit Kat it’s just a bath! Come back here. Pepper help!” They heard Tony yell.

Steve had a hard time keeping a straight face and coughed loudly into his fist.

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

After you flooded the bathroom and Tony accidentally covered the room in foamy bubbles (to your delight) you were wrangled into an oversized Iron Man T-Shirt that was doubling as a nightie until the stuff Pepper had ordered for you arrived.

“I don’t wanna go to sleep.” You whispered as Tony tucked you in.

“Why not? Aren’t you tired?”

“I see the nasty me sometimes when I sleep.” You admitted.

“Kit Kat, she can’t hurt anybody. You know why? Because you’re strong and you keep us all safe. You’re a hero.”

“Like you?”

“Better.”

“But you’re the bestest super hero!”

Tony preened.

“Want me to tell you about the time Pepper was the biggest hero?”

You nodded enthusiastically and Tony stretched out next to you to get comfy while he told you a child friendly version of what happened with The Mandarin and Extremis. Not even halfway into the story you drifted off, curled into a little ball at his side.

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

To absolutely nobody’s surprise Tony was a bit of a worrier. This was made evident when he came running into the lab with you at the crack of dawn.

“Banner, she’s sick!” He said worriedly.

“What happened?” Bruce asked calmly.

“She sneezed in her sleep.”

“She sneezed.”

“Yes. What if whatever Loki did is making her ill or it messed with her immune system?”

You blinked sleepily at Bruce and your head drooped down as you fell asleep again.

“Tony she’s fine. Friday is monitoring her vitals, you’d know if anything was wrong.”

“But she sneezed!”

“People sneeze Tony, it’s not a sign of impending doom. If she gets a temperature I’ll check. Put her back in her bed, she’s physically only about 2 or 3, she needs rest.”

“But what if...”

“Bed. Now.”

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

“She’s not coming today.” Storm said to Logan as he made his way to the front door to wait for you.

“Why?”

“Stark just called and cancelled. Seems they had some issues and she’s currently a toddler.”

Logan blinked.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growled and stomped away.

“How did they turn her into a kid?” Rouge wondered.

“I didn’t ask, I didn’t want to know.” Storm admitted.

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

Everybody liked to accuse Tony of spoiling you but when all the stuff Pepper had ordered arrived it was very clear he wasn’t the only one. You were currently tearing through the seven boxes of clothes.

“How long do you think she’s going to be like this?” Wanda asked with wry amusement.

“I just wanted to be prepared. Whatever she doesn’t use we can donate.” Pepper defended herself.

You were pulling shoes out of a box and handing them to Vision who had actually turned out to be great with you. You kicked your feet out and wiggled your toes at him until he knelt down and put the new light up sneakers on you.

“See, she’s fine. Just smaller.” They heard Tony insist.

Tony walked into the room gesturing at you. Logan stomped in and looked at you, his expression grumpy. You growled at him and he huffed in amusement.

“So now that’s sorted, you can leave now.” Tony said snippely.

“You haven’t explained a damn thing Stark. So Loki did this, what are you doing to fix it?” Logan snapped back.

Wanda edged over to you and distracted you by floating things in the air while the two men argued.

“Loki said he can change her back. In time.” Tony said vaguely.

“You had better be turning her back.” Logan snarled.

“Of course we are, not that it’s any of your business. “

“I left it alone because I thought she’d be better off but she is my business. You're supposed to be looking after her, she’s supposed to be safe.”

“She’s a toddler not an idiot, keep it down.” Tony hissed.

Wanda and Vision were looking shocked and pretending not to look shocked and you were looking down at your shoes, intrigued by the lights. Tony breathed a sigh of relief.  

“You can’t just waltz in and claim her like a piece of lost luggage.” Tony raged.

“The hell I can’t if you’re treating her like a dress up doll.” Logan snarled back.

“She’s MY child, she doesn’t want to be anybody else’s. She doesn’t want to look for her father, she doesn’t want to know him. She chose me because she knows I love her. I will find a way to turn her back and until then I’ll look after her. You wanna waltz over there and tell her you’re her dad? All you’ll do is confuse and hurt her and I’ll be the one who picks up the pieces because that’s what fathers do.” Tony whispered angrily.

“If you were such a great dad there wouldn’t be so many pieces to pick up all the damn time.” Logan said with a shrug.

“Dad?” You said angrily.

“Yes sweetheart?” Tony said, turning to you.

“Why are you arguing with him?” You asked.

“Your teacher and I were disagreeing about something insignificant. It’s ok.” Tony informed you.

“I don’t like him, he makes my nose itch.” You said matter of factly and Tony didn’t bother hiding his smug look.

“Well then, he should probably leave.” Tony said victoriously.

“This aint over tin can.” Logan snarled and stormed away.

“Can I have a cookie now?” You asked with a grin.

“You can have all the cookies you want Kit Kat.”

“One, she can have one... oh why do I bother?” Pepper said to herself apparently as Tony scooped you up and carried you away.

“Kit Kat?!!?”

Natasha looked up at the sound of Tony’s worried voice and smirked. She silently walked into the kitchen and watched you pull out the drawers so you could use them to climb onto the worktop and rummage through the cupboards.

“Sam’s Oreo stash is in the next cupboard over.” She whispered.

You looked over your shoulder at her and shuffled across the worktop, finding the cookies exactly where she said they would be.

“Want one?” You offered her.

“Friday, inform Stark she’s with me and I’ll give her back in a little while.”

“Of course.” Friday said with obvious amusement.

“Come on little Kotoynok.” Natasha said, picking you and the cookies up and carrying you away.

She took you up to the roof where you could eat Sam’s cookies in peace.

“Are you in there?” She asked you curiously.

You cocked your head at her in confusion and paused with a cookie halfway to your mouth and she chuckled.

“Yes, that’s definitely you.” You said and swiped the cookie off you.

“Rude.” You huffed.

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

“Stark, you can stop fretting. Here’s your baby back.” Natasha said with a smirk as you ran into the lab ahead of her and launched yourself at Dum-E.

“Dum-E, careful! She’s the same size as you now so no prodding her or I’ll turn you into a garbage disposal.” Tony warned.

You made an affronted noise and stood protectively in front of the robot.

“I’m joking, I wouldn’t.” Tony swore, making a throat slashing motion at Dum-E as soon as your back was turned.

“Hey Stark, can I borrow your kid? I wanna go to Toys-R-Us.” Clint asked as he sauntered in.

“No, we can’t take her out of the compound. It’s too dangerous.” Tony insisted.

“Nobody outside of The Avengers knows she’s been shrunk, she’s probably the safest she’s ever been.” Clint pointed out.

“He’s got a point and it will be good for her.” Bruce added from somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I wanna go!” You insisted.

Tony thought it over.

“Fine but we’re taking..”

“Stop, it’ll be blatantly obvious if you come with.” Clint interrupted him.

“Fine. Take my child away. But you’re taking Capsicle and the other birdbrain.” Tony snapped huffily.  

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

Steve, Sam and Clint were having more fun than you were and that was saying something as you were running about joyfully, grabbing Lego sets and Barbie dolls excitedly. They were not trying to calm you down in the slightest, pushing different toys at you and throwing them into the basket everytime your eyes lit up.

“What if, and hear me out, we didn’t let Loki turn her back?” Sam suggested as you ran around the Avengers toys, zooming a falcon figurine around.

“Sam!” Steve squawked indignantly.

“It’s just an idea. She’s having so much fun like this. Would it really be the worst thing in the world if she got a second chance at a childhood?” Sam asked.

“You know Tony’s thinking it as well.” Clint pointed out.

“Can I have this?” You asked in a small voice, something tucked into your arms.

“Sure.” Clint said.

“Of course you can.” Sam said brightly.

“Guys, we don’t know what it is. What is it?” Steve asked you and you shyly showed him.

It was a modernised version of the old bears they had made in the 40’s.

“She wants a Bucky Bear. We can’t leave her this way.” Steve said to them.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you that bear.” Clint said, swinging you onto his shoulders and hurrying you away from Sam and Steve.

“Don’t Sam. She’s a grown-up, we can’t just leave her this way. She has a whole life to get back to.” Steve said.

“I know man, I know.” Sam said wearily.

“But?”

“She never got to be a kid. Seeing her like this, I feel bad for her and I can’t help wondering if she’d be happier if we left it.” Sam told him.

“She wouldn’t be happier. She’d lose everything she has fought for. We can’t do that to her. I get why it’s tempting though, I do.” Steve admitted.

Seeing you so carefree and innocent just highlighted the fact that you had never really had this and Steve really did understand why Sam was even considering it but he knew that you wouldn’t thank them for doing it.

“Let’s just help her enjoy it while it lasts.” Steve suggested.

“Well in that case we’re going to Burger King.” Sam said.

“McDonalds.” Steve argued.

“Nuh uh man. Burger King.”

In the end the choice was left up to you and they ended up in a small retro diner in Brooklyn.

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

Bucky turned the corner at the front of the compound and turned straight back around but it was too late.

“Bucky!” You threw yourself off of Clint’s shoulders much to the terror of the three men with you.

You landed easily on the ground and immediately shot away, leaving them gaping after you.

Bucky ground his teeth together as you pelted towards him but forced himself not to move as you wrapped yourself around his leg.

“Hi.” You whispered, blinking up at him.

“Hi.” He said back.

You stared at each other for a few seconds and he knew you could sense his unease when your bottome lip started wobbling. He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair and crouched down so he was on your level.

“Why do you hate me?” You asked tearily.

“I don’t. I really don’t, I promise. This is just strange for me, can you understand that?” He asked.

“No.” You said honestly and he bit his lip to stop the snort of surprised laughter.

“Doll, yesterday you were in your 20’s and today you’re a kid. It’s weird for me to see you this way.” He admitted.

“So you don’t love me no more?”

“I’ll always love you and when you’re you again I’ll be right here waiting for you.” He swore.

“Ok.” You sniffed.

“Ok, now go back to Steve before he freaks out.” Bucky told you.

You nodded but it was subdued and you still looked sad. Bucky sighed heavily and pushed his issues aside to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go on, I’ll see you later.”

You looked a bit happier as you ran off and Bucky went back to his mental preparations for killing a Norse God.

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

That night, after another disastrous bath you slipped out of Tony’s grasp and bolted back to the common room with your Bucky Bear clutched tightly in your arms. Most of the team was gathered there watching a horror movie that Wanda paused as soon as you burst in.

“She wanted to say goodnight.” Tony said, out of breath as he ran in after you.

You climbed onto the sofa and snuggled straight into Vision who you’d taken to more as a child. He looked perplexed before Wanda made a hugging motion with her arms and gave him a pointed look and he copied her.

“Goodnight Miss Stark.” He said politely.

“Night Vision.” You said back, holding out Bucky Bear.

Vision got the gist without Wanda’s help this time and hugged the bear.

“Goodnight Bucky Bear.” He said, equally as polite to the bear as he was to you.

Wanda was next and she smoothed your hair affectionately as she hugged you, making sure to include Bucky bear in her embrace.

“Goodnight Sestra. Goodnight Bucky Bear.”

“Goodnight Wanda.”

Natasha’s arms were wide and waiting as you burrowed into her embrace.

“Night Tasha.” You said.

“Good night Kotoynok, goodnight Bucky Bear.”

“I am not hugging that thing.” Sam protested and everyone shot a glare at him.

“If I have to be nice to it so do you.” Tony told him.

Sam rolled his eyes and gave the bear a fistbump which thankfully was good enough for you as you gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Night Sammy.”

Clint grabbed the bear and crushed it to his chest enthusiastically and was rewarded with a delighted giggle from you.

“Night kiddo.” He said, smacking a noisy kiss to your head.

“Little one.” Thor said softly, looking at you hopefully.

“Where the cat?” You huffed.

“Not here.” He assured you and your frown smoothed out and you climbed onto Thor’s lap.

Thor hugged you gratefully and made sure he hugged your bear as well.

“Alright Kit Kat, you can see everyone else tomorrow. Time for bed.” Tony instructed.

“Night!” You called, waving as you skipped away.

Tony walked you back to your room and tucked you under the covers and kissing your forehead, rolling his eyes when you held out the Bucky Bear. He obliged you and with a scowl he quickly pecked it on the head as well. You grinned evilly.

“I knew you liked Bucky.” You cackled.

“You little...” He bit his tongue.

You giggled to yourself as you snuggled down and yawned.

“Dad?” You asked sleepily.

“What is is sweetheart?”

“Do you want me to change back?” You asked.

“I want you to be yourself. I want what’s best for you.” He admitted.

“That’s why I’m glad you’re my dad and not Logan.” You told him.

He froze.

“You heard us?”

His only answer was a soft snore.

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

The moonlight cast a silvery illumination across the room as you slept soundly, unaware of the God Of Mischief watching you.

“I hope you found this experience enlightening, I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it in your next appointment.” He said with his signature grin as you glowed a soft green.

When you had blackmailed Thor into accompanying you somewhere it had been too easy to impersonate this Doctor Leonard Samson. It had been easy mischief, born of curiosity. You’d never know and you didn’t have to.

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

Bucky was woken up by a frantic knocking on his door and when he opened it you all but tumbled through it. You. Adult you.

“You’re back.” He said breathily, clutching your arms to make sure you were real.

“I’m back.” You confirmed.

He pulled you into his arms and rested his forehead against yours in the early morning light and calmly stood there with you, drinking in your presence, relived to have you back and feeling like the world was as it should be again.

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

I AM ONE MONTH OLD! It has been exactly four weeks since this fic began so HAPPY BIRTHDAY US!

I can't begin to thank everybody has read, liked, reblogged, commented or given Kudo's. For somebody who struggles every day to find reasons to be happy this fic and the responses to it has been the best thing to ever happen to me. To know that people actually like this has given me such a massive burst of confidence and makes my days easier to get through, I'm a lot happier than I was a month ago because I feel like I have a purpose now.

I hope you like this chapter and the one's to follow.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first @thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala @the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat @buckitybarnes @fairislesheets @angieptt @meganjonezzzz @dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx @theonelittleone @piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot @captainamericasbeard @dropthepizza346 @jaynnanadrews @likes-to-smell-books @drdorkus @life-wanderer @metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky @jsmith509

[jadeender]

The Fortress of Light and Darkness Part 3

After they had left the musical puzzle everyone was on edge but overall the mood had lightened. Sky was still downcast, Four had seen the way he looked at the harp in disgust, as though it was the worst thing ever made. It had to be Stygian but soon they would reach the top of the fortress and would be able to be separated from the darks. 

He’d be able to see Shadow again! Not to say having Shadow in his head wasn’t nice but soon Shadow would be his own person again. That thought fueled him as Four and the others traversed the fortress. 

The hallways they traveled were well lit and spacious, they just seemed to go on forever. The group would activate the occasional switch to reveal a new passage or fight off weak enemies to open a door but nothing complicated like the musical puzzle. 

After what they presumed to be a couple hours the group stopped to rest, without windows and with the constant light it was hard to tell whether it was day or night.

“While we’re stopped we should get some rest. Only an hour or two, we’ll need to be at our best when we get to Veran.” Legend said. 

Four nodded. They all knew to take Legend at face value, anyone who was powerful enough to do this to them had to have some tricks up their sleeve.

“What powers does she have?” Four signed.

“Mainly she shoots fireballs, but her most annoying ability is being able to possess people. The only way to get her out of a host last time was to use magic seeds but I don't have any left. So we’ll have to keep her from possessing anyone.” Legend finished his face grim.

“Any other surprises we should be expecting?” Wild asked. Legend just shook his head.

“That's all I can remember, if she manages to possess someone their skin will go completely blue. That's all I can think of.” 

“Good to know. You all get some sleep, I’ll wake you in an hour.” Twilight ordered and the others easily obliged, even Wild who normally would have insisted to help watch. 

Four feel asleep quickly his hood acting as a pillow.

____________________________________________________________________________

A little while later Twilight was calling for them all to wake up and as Four awoke he stretched and yawned. Turning to Legend Four tried to tell his friend something only to have his voice grate against his messed up vocal chords, the pain of it catching in his throat.

The others looked at him in worry as Four gripped his throat and coughed, a small amount of blood came out into his hand. Still after all this time it hadn’t even healed enough to allow him to speak a little bit. Sign was a fine substitute for most things but still, he missed laughing and singing. 

“Four?” Legend asked looking at him in worry.

“Fine.” He signed back before taking on a “I promise.”

With more reassurances the others left him alone and kept going, they tracked along spacious hallways adorned with light colored bricks and red carpet under their feet, something more fitting of Hyrule Castle. Not that any of them would have complained, better than the dark and dank tunnels of the temples, palaces, and dungeons they’d traversed before. 

As they rounded another corner the roof of the hallway began to slope down towards the end, curious they continued on and the hallway continued to narrow and grow shorter. Four watched the walls noting how the gentle change turned to a rapid one, before long Sky and Twilight were slouching a lot, soon Wild and Legend were too.

When the tunnel got to crawling height they began to worry. 

“Should we go back?” Wild asked the others sitting down his head nearly scraping the ceiling. 

“No, there weren’t any other paths back there. This has to be another puzzle somehow.” Legend observed.

Four had a sinking feeling this particular puzzle was somehow oriented around him. 

Four shook his head and caught the others attention, he signed “I'll go, make sure we can get through.”

After a curt nod from Twilight Four turned and started down the hallway, if need be he could shrink down to minish size, or even if he just split any one of them was smaller than their combined form. 

So he continued on down the mind bendingly long tunnel, feeling as it got tighter and tighter, a feeling he wasn’t quite accustomed to being as small as he is. Eventually he got the point where he was crawling along on his belly and his head kept hitting the ceiling. He has long ago stopped being able to see his friends, and he had no way to communicate at this distance either since he couldn’t shout. 

Finally he got frustrated and grabbed onto the feather that served as an earring on his left ear and spoke a quick spell, the familiar buzz of magic took over and within moments he had shrunk down to his minsh form, this form being barely four inches tall the space that had felt cramped now was open and wide. Four scurried forward to get through the tunnel as quickly as possible. 

Scurrying along the hall he soon came to a small door, Four opened the door noticing how only in minish size would anyone fit through. Whatever this was it had clearly been designed for him.

As he went through the door he found himself in a room bearing four doors each with weighted switches in front of them. Though the room was still minish sized. Walking over to one switch he stepped onto it causing the door in front of him to open, testing a theory he momentarily stepped off causing the door to go shut again.

Sighing Four grabbed his sword which had shrunk down with him and called upon its latent power, the feeling of his mind being pulled apart took over and soon Four minish heroes stood staring at each other. 

“We’re on a time limit.” Green signed. “Never been split while small before.”

The others nodded while Green continued, “Where’s Shadow?”

Blue raised his hand, the usually hot tempered hero signed deftly unused to having to think about that, since Green usually handled it. 

“Take one door each.” Vio signed to his brothers and they nodded taking up spots in front of each door. Once they did the doors opened as Green counted down, 3, 2, 1, go. Quickly all four took off down their hallways.

____________________________________________________________________________

As they scurried down the hallways each copy encountered twists and turns. It was like being a mouse in a maze, and their frustration only grew higher.

“I can't do this anymore!” Blue said to Shadow flopping down on the tunnel floor. “We’re never getting out, I’m just going to wait here for the others to find me.”

“They won’t be able to find you here, and you know what happens when you stay apart for too long.” Shadow warned, normally he wouldn’t have been very talkative but Blue needed the encouragement, otherwise the dark knew he would just sit here and fume until exhaustion overtook them from being apart for so long. “We really will be stuck here forever if you don’t get moving.”

“You’re just as bad as Green.” Blue’s voice mumbled inside their head as he stood up and kept going.

Soon they ran into a new room, this one big like the four hallways, but had only two doors. 

Above them was an inscription “Two doors, one will lead to your reward, the other will lead to your death, choose the right door or perish.”

By this point Blue was exhausted mentally and physically, he was annoyed and he was tired. The few hours of sleep they had gotten only served to make his irritability worse. Noticing the three other tunnels on the wall behind him Blue and Shadow decided the others would likely be there soon.

In line with that prediction the others slowly arrived, first Vio, then Green and finally Red. 

“So, which door do we choose?” Vio signed after Red finished hugging them all. It wasn’t often they were separated anymore so Red had to get his hugs when he could. 

“Why don't we open them both and see?” Blue offered passing on the suggestion from Shadow.

“We might not be able to go back once its open.” Green signed looking at the doors and the surrounding area. 

“It says to choose the ‘right’ door so we should take the left.” Vio signed.

“Why?”

“It's a reverse idea, putting what seems like the right answer but is actually wrong.” Vio explain giving a calculating look over the door.

“Legend did say Veran was cunning. Let's do it.” Green affirmed nodding his head. The four of them headed to the door almost knocking into each other. 

“Oh right.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The once again merged Four opened the left door and carefully walked down the hallways it bended and twisted but never turned, after a time he noticed it began to get bigger again, and bigger, until he could have fit in it a full size. Speaking the reverse incantation Four grew back to full size as his animal like minish features reverted to normal Hylian.

Once he was full size again he heard voices not far away. So he continued forward quickly and soon found himself back in the original hallway, with the other four heroes he had awoken with.

When they noticed him emerging Wild and Twilight ran to him.

“What happened?”

“Did you find the way?”

“It's been hours.”

He signed as quickly as he could without losing meaning, telling them about the tunnels and the maze, and then finally the doors. As he reached that point in his story a voice drifted out.

“So the rat has made it through my maze, and in only a few short hours. Pity, I had hoped it would take days. You may proceed.” As Veran’s voice drained away the hallways warped and turned from the cramped space into a wide hallway once again with a staircase rising in front of them.

“I did it.” Four signed looking up at his friends. His stomach grumbled loudly and his last thought before passing out was “I forgot how much energy that was going to take.”

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Jimmy Snakes

I spent my morning writing this instead of doing chores like I was supposed to.  As for what this ficlet is about?  Well, it’s on the tin.  Enjoy.

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              Stan whistled as he walked up to the door.  Even though he and Angie had lived in this house for ages, he had zoned out flying home from work, and as a result, he’d gone to the place he used to share with Ford before remembering he didn’t live there anymore.

              That was a bit embarrassing.  But not as embarrassing as it was for Ford.  Ford had rushed out of his bedroom, beet red and only in boxers, when Stan entered. Ford’s stammering when he asked what Stan was doing there didn’t ease Stan’s suspicion.  I wonder if he had someone over.  Hmm.  He’s been acting a bit weird lately.  Maybe he’s got a boyfriend he doesn’t wanna tell me about.  Guy’s gotta be a piece of work if Ford’s too embarrassed to tell me, his brother who’s engaged to a supervillain.  Stan sighed.  Whatever. He’ll tell me when he wants to. He could just as easily have been having some “alone time”.  Stan snickered softly.  Something shone in the corner of his eye.  He looked over.  A flashy motorcycle stood in the driveway, next to the Stanleymobile.  That wasn’t there this morning.  Maybe Angie bought it?  That’d be kinda hot.  He opened the door.

              “Ang?” he called.

              “In the livin’ room!” came the response.  Stan stepped inside.  “Oh, and we have a guest!”

              Right.  Stan grimaced.  Angie had warned him that morning that she had a former coworker visiting, who might still be around when Stan got off work.  I hate meeting Angie’s coworkers.  They’re always nice to me, but it’s weird as hell to have the person you threw in jail last week ask you about your plans for the weekend.  Sure, this guy is a former coworker, but he’s still an active villain.  He and Angie just don’t work the same area anymore.  Stan made his way to the living room, deciding to say a polite hello to Angie’s coworker and then leave again.  Maybe I go back to Ford’s place, find out what he was so nervous about.

              “There ya are!” Angie chirped.  She was sitting cross-legged on the light brown sofa, Daisy in her lap.  Her coworker sat next to her, holding Danny. Angie’s coworker was facing away from him, but Stan recognized the leather jacket and bandana.  Stan’s heart stopped.  “Stan, this is James.  ‘Member? I told ya ‘bout him.”

              “Uh.  Yeah,” Stan managed.  “James” turned around.  Stan swallowed.  “H-hey, Jimmy.”  Jimmy Snakes, his ex-boyfriend, peered at him over his sunglasses.  He smiled suggestively.

              “Hey, kitten,” Jimmy purred.  Angie frowned.

              “James, care to tell me why ya called my fiancé that?”  Her tone had a hint of warning to it.  Stan knew from experience that while not a jealous girlfriend, Angie did get territorial when other supers made a move on Stan.  Jimmy chuckled.

              “Relax, Angie.  I’ve moved on from him.”

              “Moved on?” Angie asked.  Jimmy shot another grin in Stan’s direction.

              “Stan and I used to be an item,” Jimmy drawled.  As if upset by this revelation, Danny began to fuss loudly.

              “Hand her over,” Stan said shortly, snatching his daughter from Jimmy. Jimmy raised his eyebrows.

              “Geez, relax.”

              “What the hell are you doing here?” Stan demanded.  He was painfully aware that his attempt to seem threatening was impeded by how he was bouncing Danny in his arms to calm her down.

              “I’m Angie’s former coworker,” Jimmy said, spreading his arms wide.  “I had to come in town for business.  Thought I’d drop by to catch up and hash out an agreement for transporting supplies.”

              “James purchases a lot of stuff from my folks,” Angie said.

              “Since when are you a villain?” Stan asked.  “You weren’t one when we dated.”

              “Yeah, but I never really liked followin’ the rules,” Jimmy said lazily.  “When I became a super, only made sense to go into villainy. I found a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, set stuff up, and now I’m a regular highwayman.  With a side gig of transporting goods for Mr. and Mrs. McGucket.”  Jimmy raised an eyebrow at Stan.  “What about you, kitten?  You puttin’ those pyrotechnics to good use yet?  Actually, you don’t need to answer.  If you managed to shack up with one of the best villains on this coast, you obviously decided to do the same as me.”

              “No, I didn’t.”

              “Then what do you do?” Jimmy asked.  Stan tensed.

              “I don’t need to tell you.”

              “Fair enough.”

              “How did you become a super?  Did you have latent powers or something?” Stan asked.

              “Nah.  Accidentally summoned a demon, gave him my soul in exchange for abilities, you know how it goes.”

              “…No, I don’t.”

              “Hang on,” Angie said, holding up a hand.  She glared at Jimmy.  “You made a deal with a demon?”

              “And you’ve made politicians mysteriously vanish,” Jimmy retorted.  “Don’t try to take the high road when you rob a bank every Tuesday.”

              “James, my fam’ly might be villains, but we have our standards and morals,” Angie said firmly.  She crossed her arms.  “We’re good Catholic folks.  We don’t like bein’ affiliated with demons or their minions.”

              “Ah, c’mon, Ang, gimme a break.  I don’t let the whole demon thing get in the way of gettin’ the job done. Your folks told me I’m the best transporter they’ve ever had.”

              “We don’t want folks who work fer Satan workin’ fer us.  We know which boss ‘ll come first.”

              “I don’t work for the big S.  Just one of his accountants.”

              “Well, it still stands.  We don’t like contractin’ folks that have another boss.  We like knowin’ that our workers are loyal to us.  It’s fer safety purposes.  We can’t risk our covers gettin’ blown.”  Angie sighed softly.  “Unfortunately, I’m goin’ to have to tell my folks ‘bout this.”

              “Really?  Over that?” Jimmy asked.  “I’ve only been loyal to you guys.”

              “Look, it’s how we run things,” Angie said.  Jimmy scowled.  

              “Bitch.”  Stan tucked Danny into the crook of his arm, then used his free hand to grab Jimmy’s shirt collar and pull him up.

              “Don’t talk to my fiancée like that,” Stan snarled.  Danny giggled loudly, clearly thrilled by what was going on. Jimmy held up his hands placatingly.

              “Geez, geez, fine!  I’ll back off!”  Stan let him go.  Jimmy adjusted his shirt.  He looked around.  A faint breeze was beginning to pick up, and smoke curled from Stan’s sleeve.  “Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

              “You think?” Stan rumbled.  

              “Ang, if your folks do decide to drop me as a transporter, make sure they call to let me know,” Jimmy said.  “I don’t like getting ghosted.”

              “We try to keep up good manners, and good manners includes tellin’ people if they’re fired,” Angie said.  Jimmy looked at Stan.

              “Good luck with the kids and fiancée, kitten.  Never took you for the parenting type, but, eh.  Maybe you’ll surprise me.”  With that, he strolled out of the living room.  The front door opened and closed.  A rumbling started up outside, then faded.

              “I’m guessing the motorcycle I saw when I got home was Jimmy’s,” Stan said, joining Angie on the couch.  Angie nodded.

              “Sorry about that,” she said quietly.  “If I’d known James was yer ex-”

              “It’s fine,” Stan said.  He frowned. “His behavior was weird, though. He was always a bit of a dick, but he never escalated things.  He always insisted on trying to calm people down instead of rile ‘em up.”

              “Yeah, I don’t remember him bein’ so rude the last few times I’ve spoke to him. Maybe it’s the prolonged demon exposure.”

              “Maybe.”  Stan grimaced.  “Your parents aren’t gonna be pissed at me, will they?”

              “Why would they be?” Angie asked, cocking her head.  Stan flicked a crumb of something off Angie’s T-shirt.  It was one of her favorites, with a large salamander emblazoned on the front.

              “Well, I showed up, started talkin’, and next thing you know, your parents lost their best transporter.”

              “Oh, hon.”  Angie took a hold of Stan’s hand.  “Honestly, I think my parents will be pleased ya got him to spill.  Like I said, we don’t affiliate with demonic forces.  Or employ folks already workin’ fer someone with interests similar to ours.”

              “Yeah, but what if he retaliates?”

              “We can take care of ourselves.  Don’t you worry ‘bout that.”  Angie smiled at him.  Stan smiled back.  “So, what took ya so long?  Did ya get lost comin’ home?”

              “I accidentally went to Ford’s place again,” Stan confessed.  Angie chuckled.  “Weird thing, though.  He ran outta his room like a bat outta hell, bright red, in his boxers.”  Angie scooted closer to him.

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Think he had someone over?”

              “I think so.  The last couple times we’ve dropped off the girls, I’ve noticed a few things laying around that aren’t Ford’s.”

              “Ooh.”  Angie’s eyes sparkled.  “Maybe he’s found himself a, ah…”  Angie frowned momentarily.  “I don’t want to be presumptive, but I get the feelin’ he’d prefer a male lover over a female.”

              “You’re right.  On both counts.  That was my thought too, that he’s got some boyfriend he doesn’t wanna tell anyone about yet.”

              “Well, give him time,” Angie said.  “He’s yer brother.  He’ll tell ya eventually.  Every time, it takes Lute forever to come clean when he finds a new boyfriend, but he always tells me at some point.”  Angie rolled her eyes.  “Usually months after the fact.  Like, right now, I’m pretty sure he’s at least got a…”  Angie glanced down at Daisy, who was still in her arms.  “Hmm.  Tryin’ to figure out how to phrase it without sayin’ a swear in front of the girls.”

              “He’s got a regular lay?” Stan suggested.  Angie tilted her head.

              “I guess that works.  Yeah, I recognize the signs.  Not all the folks he knocks boots with end up bein’ his boyfriend, but in my experience, when he invites the same person to his bed multiple times, it’s headed into that territory.”

              “Man, Lute is way different from Ford.  I think Ford dated someone in college, but I don’t know who. Meanwhile, Lute’s out getting laid every night.”

              “Pfft.”

              “I’m tempted to sneak back over, see if I can spot anything,” Stan said.

              “I mean, we do need to confirm that he’ll be babysittin’ the girls tomorrow while we’re both at work,” Angie said.  Stan grinned.

              “Wanna come?”

              “It does sound entertaining, but I’ve got to call my parents about Jimmy. And I need to call Lute.  He was s’pposed to kidnap someone today and didn’t. Since I was the one who put him up fer the job, I’ve got the responsibility to follow up on why he didn’t do it.”

              “Okay.”  Stan kissed Angie on the cheek.  “Want me to take Daisy?  She and Danny are both asleep, so I can put them both in their cribs.”

              “That would be excellent, dear.”  Angie kissed him back.  “Have fun haranguing Ford.”

              “I always do.”

[ardent-apprentice]

Sol, The Ardent Apprentice

A short story by:  Ominous_The_Unknown

I

In the magical world of Runeterra, mountains move, forests come alive, the dead assault the living, and reality sometimes fractures to give a brief glimpse to the horrible Void beyond. But even though the arcane energies course through all the nations, there is no other place quite as whimsical like Bandle City, the central hub of Yordle life. Across the lands, these short creatures are seen in a multitude of different perspectives. Forest fae-folk, mischievous imps, urban legends, valiant warriors, and heinous villains, Yordles always seem to be synonymous with some kind of outstanding trait that makes them outstanding in their own right. 

During their early, formative years, young Yordles quickly come to find what makes them unique from one another and once they do, they soon set themselves down the path to honing their skills to try and become the best in their craft. Of course, not every Yordle specialized in entirely different things. It was common for some to be gifted a knack for tinkering and invention much like the great minds of Heimerdinger, Rumble or Ziggs. Others were given more physical, combative skills like Tristana or Teemo. And of course, there was the occasional magic user like Lulu. But what happens when your talent doesn’t manifest when it should? What happens when the people around you develop some kind of magnificent skill when you are left with nothing?

Sol was forced to ask himself this question many times over when he realized that the other young Yordles around him were attaining their unique abilities whereas he had none. In the beginning, he was assured that he would find his niche soon enough, but time passed and he still found himself left in the dust. He would watch as others were able to conjure small balls of energy, create phantasmal elemental displays, briefly summon ethereal aurora-like creatures, or even infuse machines to give them extra vigor. It wasn’t long before the older Yordles decided to properly study him. A few of the more astute researchers of the city came together and performed a few tests on him, hoping to find the answer.

Then, to Sol’s horror, he was finally given the bad news.

Unlike the others, the charcoal gray yordle was magically inept and lacked a mana pool to draw the necessary arcane energies do anything noteworthy. At that very moment, it was as if the weight of Mount Targon was set upon the Yordle’s heart. The information was a curse that forced Sol to watch helplessly as his close friends became apprentices to some of Bandle City’s champions while he was subjected to a mundane and unfulfilling life. Even at a young age, Sol felt that his dreams of becoming some well known Yordle had been destroyed. He grappled with the idea for a while and in the end, he outright refused to accept it. 

Bitterness and envy slowly slithered into the young Yordle’s heart, poisoning him ever so slightly, but instead of letting it destroy him, Sol used it to push onwards. Soon it became apparent that what Sol lacked in magical prowess, he made up for in tenacity, boldness, and creativity. Bullies would, of course, try to take advantage of him or tease him as they flaunted their skills in front of him. The name-calling, the minor physical altercations, the laughter, it stung, but Sol relied on the fact that they underestimated him so that he could beat them at their own games. 

If anything, his newfound strength despite his lack of mana actually made him stand out more because he would do everything in his power to ensure that no one looked down on him. He refused to sulk, he refused pity, and above all else, he sought to break the fate that had been cruelly handed to him. Within the Yordle, a sort of bullheaded attitude emerged as he sought to absorb as much information as possible to see if anything triggered some latent talent hidden within. Archery, crafting, smithing, politics, Sol would attempt to learn everything. Even when he didn’t become a master at it, he at least came away with some experience. Ultimately, this meant that Sol became known as a jack-of-all-trades. 

But once Sol became an adolescent, he realized that his accumulated skills still weren’t enough. Instead of continuing to study within the small confines of Bandle City. the abnormal Yordle made the decision to explore the world. Many people within the city knew that it was possible and that even some of the more famous Yordles had survived to become rather huge stars in other cities, but it was still a risky decision. The elders of the city said he was a fool and that without forging his own unique talent that he would quickly die without any ability to protect himself, but Sol’s close friends knew that because of his myriad of skills that he would forge his own path. 

The young Yordle quickly assembled enough equipment and other necessities and bid a fond farewell to Bandle City and its inhabitants before he journeyed outwards. He would find new mentors, make new friends and discover what was truly hidden deep within him. 

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

II

There were many limitations to being a Yordle. In some places they were seen as normal living beings with rights, others they were a myth and in a select few they were abhorred and either cast out like plague bearers or maybe even attacked on sight. With that in mind, there were unwritten rules for traveling abroad as a Yordle.

The first and probably most important rule is to never reveal oneself as a Yordle. Information travels slowly through Runeterra, and even though some progressive regions accepted all races that was not the case for the majority of the world. To socialize, most traveling Yordles were often given a magical glamour that would simply disguise them as short humans. There were some fringe cases of course, like the valiant Poppy, deranged Kled and estranged Lulu, but that was mostly because they were more than capable of defending themselves if they were ever threatened with violence. For other Yordles, physical altercations were best avoided.

Even with a rather large list of practical skills, without magical energy Sol’s friends and family knew that it would be best if he traveled prepared. Before departing, Sol was gifted an enchanted pendant that could accomplish such a task, but he soon discovered that his mana deficiency would cause issues. The glamour itself very slowly used up the wearer’s mana when being used, and in most cases, a regular Yordle could wear it for as long as they wanted since they would regenerate the energy just as fast as it was being depleted. So in Sol’s case, he could only activate the pendant for a few days before his body ran out of mana to power it, then he would have to travel as his regular fuzzy, self to recharge. There were many instances where that proved to be a huge disadvantage, but during his adventure, he just learned ways to work around it. 

Along with the stigma against his species, Sol also began to interact with various living creatures in the world. Some were warm and kind, others brave warriors filled with courage and honor, while a select few had bitterness and anger brewing within them. The growing Yordle had to observe and catalog every interaction as he started to develop his own set of rules to operate by when he revisited certain locations. His tome of rules slowly grew over time and he would openly share them with fellow Yordles that he happened to come across during his travels, for example:

 Never challenge a Noxian. Their hardy nature makes them competitive and their bloodthirsty traits mean it won’t take much until they lose their temper and draw a weapon.

If a Bilgewater pirate questions if you’re a Yordle, tell them you’re just small hairy and that they’re too drunk to tell. Also, always keep a few golden krakens with you whether you believe in their superstition or not, it may just save your life.

No matter how furry you are, always wear warm layers when traveling in Freljord and try to stay dry. Wet fur can turn into solid chunks of ice if you’re not careful.

STAY AWAY FROM THE SHADOW ISLES AT ALL COSTS

When in Piltover or Zaun, try to wear a magical glamour or at the very least wear a disguise. Both places demonize Yordles and have even imprisoned them. 

Piltover is nice, but there are many flashy hypocrites there who don’t know what they’re doing. However, you can always go to Heimerdinger at his laboratory for a safe haven since he’s a well-known researcher there. 

Zaun is dangerous for a litany of reasons, like roving madmen, and a bloodthirsty chimera wolf-thing and just rampant lawlessness. Also, be careful of friendly fire when traveling in Zaun, Ziggs is known to go crazy there from time to time. 

Sol’s notebook was starting to become an epic in its own right as it documented his travels day by day, carried numerous errata and inserted trinkets and drawings. His accumulated skills also made him a rather valuable asset in most situations as he was able to make himself useful in dire situations. Despite his short stature, Sol was able to repair a ship’s sail during a storm, cook meals for the less fortunate, and even help build makeshift shelters. Even though he wasn’t exactly perfect at the job, the mere fact that he would always volunteer to help and put himself out on the field made him very likable.  

He found himself partaking in many different adventures as he followed his heart and traveled all around the world. Sol had spent some time helping on a fishing boat, infiltrating bandit camps to save captured Yordles or even cavorting in ancient ruins to find treasure or long lost secrets. If anything, the exploration of it all appealed to him the most and he loved to dig deep into the history of long dead people and inspect the artifacts that they left behind. When he sometimes came into contact with ancient relics, they would flicker or light up as the energies bound within them were somehow stirred to life, but strangely enough, when he handed those very same items to his compatriots, the object would go silent. Sol would also discover old scrolls or books written in dead languages, but just after studying the strange iconography and hieroglyphs, he seemed to understand what they meant and in some cases could even pronounce them. Sol just attributed this to his litany of skills that he had built up though and didn’t think much of it. He never bothered to inspect the magical items further, since he knew that his minuscule amount of mana would never unlock the secrets within them.   

During one period, Sol had discovered a faded map of some ancient civilization in a nearby forest. He spent a week studying the language printed on it by reviewing what information he had and he deduced that there must be some kind of treasure hidden within. Sol gathered his belongings and started to move headstrong into the brush before he finally came upon his destination in a matter of two days. Using his uncanny ability to read the hieroglyphs and understand the ornate designs of the art on the walls, the charcoal black Yordle was able to avoid or even disarm most of the traps laid within the ruins before he finally discovered a hidden room with old leather-bound tome displayed on a plinth.  

Even though Sol was unsure of the book’s origin, he could at least surmise that it was important and the instant he set his hands on it, multicolored energy cascaded out of it in an aurora-like tornado. The book opened as light poured out of its pages and wisps of power trailed out into the world beyond. As the pages rapidly flipped in front of him, the Yordle looked on with confused awe as he realized that he was somehow barely reading the words as they flew past him. His lips began to move on their own as the energy within the pages abated and appeared to listen. But even then it was still too much. 

Sol had no idea how it was possible, but he could feel the energy pulsing through his veins before it started to become a searing hot pain that radiated through his arms and into his chest. The dark gray Yordle found himself unable to let go of the book, which brought a fresh wave of panic over him. He could feel his very life essence getting immolated from within as the foreign energies burnt to brightly inside of him. 

As he was about to pass out from the pain born of the immense power another aura entered the room. For a brief moment, a dark purple and green energy appeared before a bolt of arcane power shot out of the darkness and collided with the book in his hands. The force of the blast was enough to blast the book out of Sol’s hands before it spiraled away as a burning heap. Sol crumpled to the ground, chest heaving and his vision blurring as he barely registered a figure approaching him.

Clad in dark purple garb with a large wizard’s cap atop his midnight black fur, the infamous Yordle Veigar came forward and looked down at the fallen adventurer. Before Sol could speak though, the world around him faded to black as he slipped into unconsciousness. 

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

III

By the time Sol woke up, he found himself in a candle-lit abode somewhere within some kind of intricate cave system. His body ached but he was at least thankful he could still move. He lay atop a creaky old bed, with some decrepit bookcases and drawers to act as furniture. Everything seemed to be secondhand, scavenged and mismatched, and yet whoever assembled everything at least took the time to clean the dust away somewhat. He could remember an infinite well of power being poured into his body. So much power that it was actually agonizing. 

Without any introduction, Veigar began to berate Sol for how foolish he was being. The dark master of evil wasted no time in explaining how the tome was cleverly hidden trap meant to entice any curious magic user into coming into contact with it all for the sake of burning them from the inside out. He then expounded that if it wasn’t for him, Sol would’ve been turned into a pile of ashes on the ruin floor. 

The only reason why Veigar had decided to intervene was that he noticed something strange about the trap that Sol had sprung. He explained that the book worked by manipulating a person’s innate mana pool to disrupt the inner balance within it. What he found interesting was that Sol didn’t explode as he thought he would and instead somehow started to read the text even though it was a long-dead language. Veigar then immediately began to question Sol’s identity and how he was able to not only read but speak the dead tongue but to his surprise, the dark gray Yordle could offer no solid answer.

“I just have a knack for it I guess.” Was Sol’s answer as he gave a nervous chuckle.

His answer only made Veigar raise an eyebrow skeptically before he let out an irritated sigh and reached into his coat. He then withdrew what looked like an old bone with odd letters scryed into it before he tossed it carelessly at Sol. The injured Yordle yelped as he just barely managed to catch it but the instant he saw the letters the gears began to turn in his head. It was another dialect vastly different from the ones he had seen in the book previously and yet there was some odd feeling of familiarity to them. Before Sol could ask what it was, Veigar also took out his short staff and began to focus malicious power into it. The Tiny Master of Evil then pointed the empowered end of the staff at Sol’s face before he demanded that he read the letters. 

Panic immediately consumed Sol as his eyes widened and he assured Veigar that he just had a faint clue as to what the letters meant, but he could already see that the pitch black Yordle did not believe him. Sol could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the heat from Veigar’s magic staff brushed against his fur. He knew that reasoning wouldn’t work, so Sol looked down at the ancient bone and did his best to try and divine the meaning behind the letters. 

To his surprise, everything began to click for the charcoal gray Yordle as it seemed like the ancient inscriptions somehow morphed into the words and letters that he was familiar with. Unsure as to how it was possible, Sol didn’t care and simply began to recite the words on the bone, hoping that it would appease his captive. The more Sol spoke, the candles in the room began to burn brighter before they shifted into a lavender hue. He continued to read the words before Veigar finally snatched it out of his hands and snickered. 

Scared and confused, Sol asked the mage what just happened as Veigar just smirked at him. He was able to somehow divine the meaning behind dead languages before, but what he had done was on an entirely different level. Veigar then explained that somehow, someway, Sol’s innate trait was the ability to read and tap into the magic trapped within ancient artifacts. His lack of a large mana pool actually made him the perfect conduit for oddities and enchanted items to flow and mesh with him. 

To further prove his point, the pitch black Yordle went over to one of the nearby shelves and carelessly pulled out of the book before he threw it at Sol. He explained that many of the books that he had procured over the years were magical in nature and most were inscribed in foreign languages both living and dead. Sol gingerly opened the book up to a random page and to his surprise, he could understand the words in there as well. Next, Veigar took what looked like an orb of polished onyx and handed it to Sol. From what the mage knew, information within the book could unlock the true potential of the artifact and he asked that Sol read a passage to see if anything happened. 

Nervous, but now somehow energized at realizing his dormant talent, Sol carefully read the text before he slowly began to say the words. As he did, the orb began to vibrate and emit a low hum until it started to float. 

Giddy smiles spread across both Sol and Veigar’s face at the sight of the activated artifact before the black furred Yordle crossed his arms. He then gave Sol the opportunity of a lifetime by asking if he wanted to become his apprentice and help unlock and master the magic-infused within all of the items that he discovered. Feeling that he already owed the mage a debt for saving his life, Sol gladly accepted the offer and soon his real work began.

Once he was fully healed, Sol would spend hours pouring over books, scrolls, and engraved tablets while at the same time handling and coaxing the magic out of ancient artifacts and weapons. To both his and Veigar’s surprise, he was able to unlock their true potential fairly easily as the dead languages flowed from his mouth and further accelerated his learning. Sol’s arsenal of artifacts soon grew over the years as he and Veigar traveled around, collecting items and deciphering old script as the charcoal gray Yordle was perfectly content with being a lexicon of antiquated knowledge. 

[chuckling-chemist]

A Study In Novels

((The second piece I wrote for the @fantrollszine! This one a little more comedic than the other piece I wrote. And don’t forget, if you like it consider buying me a coffee or checking out my AO3 -- where both of these short stories will be going eventually)) 

Dontoc wasn’t one for reading romance novels.

Maybe it just wasn’t for him. Dontoc much preferred subversive fantasy steeped in lore and original wiggler’s tales from before the Empire found and censored them. Books that praised the Empire or grounded themselves too close to reality weren’t likely to catch his eye. That’s not to say a romance novel couldn’t be subversive or fantastical -- Dontoc’s sure they existed somewhere -- but his experience in the genre was limited to whatever books he acquired secondhand from either his moirail or his hivemate. Which, to be fair, Dontoc held as little interest in books describing in excruciating detail the ins and outs of traditional interstellar subjuggalator pailing that his moirail found morbidly interesting as he did the godawful romance self-published stories his hivemate regularly printed off from some blog and left sitting around on tables when she got stuck on something in the lab.

Then again this current one he attempted to slog through, recommended by his matesprit to give him a good example of the genre, wasn’t any better. It felt less like a novel and more like a subpar lecture on the importance of keeping quadrants filled and separated, combined with a bizarrely saccharine tone out of place for a novel that critics heralded as “diving into the dark, twisted secrets of forbidden flush love between two castes”. It was no more than yet another creepy realistic-fiction that tried to play off the caste difference as something inherently disturbing.

His so-called matesprit, to give the kindest words to a troll forcing their relationship on life support through thinly veiled threats against his friends, lamented his apparent lack of interest in romance novels indicated a lack of romanticism. Had Dontoc not had sufficient evidence to the contrary, he might have believed her.

I reach across the desk, over to the looming seadweller on the other side and he snatches it out of the air. I flush, face turning impossibly teal under his watchful gaze. How did he know I would try to grab it?

“Okay, that is enough of that for tonight,” he said with a groan.

“Enough of what?”

Even knowing the voice instantly to be the chirpy lilt of his hivemate, Pallia, her sudden entrance into the mainblock still made his heart skip a beat. She plopped down on the seat next to him of the black couch, peering over half-moon glasses to grimace at the book in his hand. She didn’t have to say anything to exude the level of judgement he felt from her.

“You, lover of subjuggalator documentaries, cannot possibly be judging me for reading something bad,” he said lightly.

“Oh come on, Dontoc there’s bad and then there’s this.” She glanced down at the book again. “What’s it even about anyway?”

He shook his head with a sigh, letting the finger holding his spot slip out of the book. “Certainly you could wager a guess.”

“Oh a puzzle?” Pallia shifted around in her seat, turning to face him with crossed legs. She was dressed for ultimate relaxation in a pair of sweats and loose sweatshirt, with her hair pulled up in an unusually well-kept bun thanks to a few well-placed pencils. She contrasted him, tall and fully dressed in a three piece suit with his perpetually unkempt short hair, quite perfectly. Her teal eyes sparkled with mirth from behind the glasses. “Do I get any hints?”

He smirked playfully. “You have not somehow ingested enough bad media to hazard a proper guess?”

“Not for romance.” Pallia crossed her arms and huffed. “God Dontoc, I only have one quadrant. Do I really strike you as the romantic type?”

Did Pallia strike him as the romantic type? Dontoc wasn’t actually sure. With her only having one quadrant, he couldn’t accurately say for sure if such were true, or if he simply never had the chance to see her interact with a quadrant proper. She might not be the same affectionate, teasing troll who went out of her way to make sure he felt included around a quadrant. His doubt might just be his own long-time, latent flush crush on her causing him to project.

After all, he did have a flush crush on her. That much was certain. A sweep or two ago, he might have tried to deny to himself, but by now there was no other way to explain the way being around her made his whole body feel ten pounds lighter and pointlessly giddy at any little thing. His other friendships, even his actual matespritship, failed to elicit similar reactions. The closest was his moirail, Valeba, who always always brought serenity with her presence, but even that wasn’t this bizarre effervescence that floated him away from his anxieties. Not that he’d ever tell Pallia any of this. Managing to get a best friend whom he adored, despite their caste difference, was more than acceptable. To ask anything more was selfish.

“You simply strike me as the type to have read enough bad media, regardless of genre, to take some sort of guess,” he said. “Or have I somehow misread that one and you happen to unironically enjoy ‘Subjuggalating Mentor to Highbloods is Put Under Great Scrutiny after Explaining to Bluebloods the Importance of the Mirthful Messiahs Upon Inquisition. When the Bigoted Seadwelling Upper Staff Wish to Cull Her, She Goes to the Courtblock to Defend Faith In Schoolfeeding, Alongside a Plucky Tealblood Looking for His Big Break’?”

She snorted. “Please. I don’t think a single person unironically enjoys that. How can anything fall face first into every stereotype while acting like it doesn’t? There’s never been a more--” she paused to slap her forehead with an amused groan “--oh of course! The book’s hemoist isn’t it?”

Dontoc grinned. How could he not? “Oh, extremely. The highblood is the dominant one in the relationship, and he is honestly worse than you would expect.”

“Tall, well dressed and…” she tapped her finger on her arm in thought… “indigo? That strength is attractive to a lot of trolls.”

“You are not far off. Think higher.” He gestured upward toward his own twitching fins. “Much higher.”

“Violet? Really?” She looked at the cover again doubtfully. “But this looks like some kind of rich businessman type of story. I thought the violet caste normally keeps to themselves.”

“Oh they do. This book bypassed such a problem by saying he simply moved onto land when he was very young, shortly after his lusus was culled by extreme hemorebels, to get ‘more out of life’. Or perhaps it was not. Honestly, the backstory was brushed aside in favor of having the two stare blankly at each other.”

Pallia raised her eyebrows. “Is the protagonist’s backstory any clearer or is it just as bad?”

Dontoc shrugged helplessly. “If I tell you her backstory, I assure you it will give away her caste immediat--”

“Oh, so she’s a tealblood. Probably ten sweeps old, if they’re playing off twenty sweeps as young somehow. Tiny waif of a troll too, I bet.”

Well. That happened. Dontoc blinked owlishly at her assessment. Every single piece was completely true, down to the size of the tealblood. There’s no way she read the book. He would’ve seen it somewhere. “Um...how...how did…”

“You said if you tell me the caste, it gives it away. Teals and jades are the most rigid in jobs, but jadeblood romance is mostly always two women, while this love interest is male.” It was her turn to smirk, pointy fangs poking out from underneath her lips. “Despite your best efforts, you still gave away way too much.”

“You asked for a hint,” he pointed out.

“You said you weren’t giving it to me.”

He hummed, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose I did. My mistake then. Perhaps we can try this again the next time Careen insists I do some reading.”

Pallia’s amiable expression dropped into a far more worried one. “She insisted? Really? That’sss abssolutely…” she trailed off with a shake of her head. “Ignore me. That’sss not my place.”

Dontoc set the book down on the floor, shifting so he could face Pallia better. She must’ve scooted closer at some point. Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed how close they were? It was only a loveseat after all. “Are you certain? After all dear, I--”

“It’sss fine. Ssserioussssly.” She gave him a reassuring smile. It looked somewhat forced, but it was clear she didn’t want to talk about it. Better to just move on. “So, anything else to guess about the book?”

“Hm? Oh, yes right. Let me just, ah...” He reached toward the empty space in his lap for the book, but Pallia got to him first, stopping him with a soft hand. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, a stark counter to her amused one.

“Dontoc you put the book on the floor,” she said with a chuckle.

He glanced down at the floor, realizing with growing horror he most definitely did put it down on the floor. Heat pricked up his neck, causing his lips to twist into a sheepish grin. He wiggled his hand out of Pallia’s to run through his hair instead. If nothing else, the action helped calm his nerves. “So...so I did. My apologies,” he said finally.

She shrugged. “None needed. Do you even need the thing, or is the book that forgettable?”

“I ah...well, poorly constructed story or no, it is comforting to some degree to hold it. After living in what may as well have been a library alone I suppose it just...it just happened.” He sighed, a mixture of bittersweet and wistful. Memories of his childhood flooded back in waves. The lonesome library ran by a kindly jadeblood. Her impeccable ability to find whatever he should read next. The other kids trying to steal and damage them. His instructor taking his copy of The Grimdark Narrator’s wigglers tales and insisting it was inappropriate for him to read it.

Thank God Pallia was there to keep the focus, or else who knows how long he’d reminisce on the parts of his life he’d rather forget. “So you said it’s a violetblood right? And a tealblood? Not any other mid-caste.”

“Erm...yes.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Though I am not sure why that is important. It is just a caste gap. From what I understand, those are quite common in romance.”

“Oh they are. Totally common. Which is funny, considering it happens anywhere else and people can’t take it.” She pointed down at the book on the floor, the cover of which showed a lone desk covered in papers. “But that’s beside the point. So the teal is probably some personal assistant to him?”

Dontoc nodded slowly. That much was hardly a guess. While in reality tealbloods got well-to-do, white collar jobs, it seems any time a tealblood actually showed up in media, they were subservient to some higher caste. Not the same way the lowbloods were, how many of them were maids or butlers at best, but the paid equivalent of such didn’t feel like much of an improvement to him. “Of course. Did you not know that teals are little more than suck-ups to the Empire? Constantly following around the Empress to compliment her and give her the newest gossip on the common folk. After they round up all the little bad trolls, of course.”

Pallia crossed her arms, smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “Did Careen let you in on that hot tip?”

“Oh no, someone far more reasonable in such a regard. Someone with a good head on their shoulders, you see.” Pallia seemed to sag in disappointment until he added, “It was Pothos.”

“Oh my God!” she squealed. Her whole body convulsed with laughter as she fell back into the couch.  “You are not allowed to do that again!”

“...Make you laugh?” he asked cautiously. He didn’t think she was upset, but at the same time her worried look when mentioning Careen earlier had him on edge. “You are ah...you are--”

She heaved herself up and nodded, bun askew and grin plastered on her face. “Oh I’m great. I cannot believe you got me to think about that bumbling idiot. Did Careen tell you about when she thought we’d work as a quadrant?”

Dontoc shook his head: she hadn’t. While Careen was always eager to do nothing but complain about Pallia, and had been downright enthusiastic to tell Dontoc all about when his hivemate supposedly expressed flush interest in Pothos that he didn’t return, she never gave any more details. The whole story felt off in a way he couldn’t fully explain (in fact, it was another one he was willing to brush off as him projecting his crush --  sure, he can’t imagine Pallia wanting to be with a troll who truly thought skull shape indicated intelligence but maybe it was only wishful thinking), but he never told Careen such. It was good to know he had every right to be suspicious.

“How did it go?”

Pallia snorted. “About as bad as you’d expect. He learns I have a hint of an interest in something, and just starts talking over me like he’s suddenly the expert. He knows the chemical formula for table salt. That’s it. Wouldn’t know a stem cell from the stem of a plant.” She paused, eyes suddenly going wide. She wasn’t looking at him, not anymore. Her gaze was pointedly focused on that book. “Wait a second. This is her book right? Does Careen have some kind of thing for violets and teals?”

Dontoc rolled his eyes. “I doubt it. She has an odd hatred for teals. Jades too, to a lesser degree. She will not voice it, but it is present. Besides, if she really wanted you to be paired up with a violetblood to conform to her romance tropes, there are far better options.”

Pallia chuckled. “Yeah, at least if it’s like...us, it subverts that ‘teal employed by violet’ thing.”

Whatever train of thought he had immediately crashed. His face burned, and fins fluttering in embarrassment or not, there was no cooling it down in time to reduce the flush. “Ah….uh…” he swallowed harshly, realizing as he spoke his mouth was suddenly dry as sandpaper, “excuse me dear, what?”

“Oh you know. Technically speaking, you’re my research assistant. Not the other way around.” She paused, closing her eyes with a sigh. If she recognized how flustered he was right now, she wasn’t saying anything. “Then again though, considering the whole Preypal thing...maybe that doesn’t count? But sponsorships don’t count as employment. This might be more complicated than I thought.”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

“Well yeah. I mean…” They locked eyes, and he only just noticed the blush creeping on her own face. “I get bored waiting for the ion spectroscopy to finish. The logistics of how our lives would function within a work of fiction is far from the weirdest thought experiment I’ve had. I think that one started with a conversation I had with Aisral? I dunno.”

“But you have thought at length about the logistics of us...uh…”

“Ssssort of? In the same way I’ve thought about like...I dunno, me and Aisral or something. Purely hypothetical. Don’t worry. I realize you’re with Careen and talking about it’s probably strange to think about dating your hivemate...” Pallia trailed off, letting out a quiet, awkward laugh as she rubbed her neck.

“Oh impossibly so, but continue.”

“But seriously, it’s not the most unlikely thing I’ve heard. More likely than anything in that book, anyway. If that makes any sense. Sssorry for worrying you.”

“Think nothing of it.” Okay. So it’s only that they’d make a better story than whatever dribble Dontoc was reading. That’s probably true. While not the worst novel he’s come across, there weren’t many worse. His fluttering pulse calmed down enough that he actually felt he could breathe again. “If it helps, I would much rather read about us than this couple.”

Pallia smirked. “Even the pailing scenes?”

Dontoc’s face fell. He erased those from his memory, too. “Okay, we’re finished here.”

[ircnborn-blog]

— ✧ BENEDETTA GARGARI ??  no, that’s just MORGAN ANTONIA STARK !! she’s the TWENTY TWO year old child of ANTHONY STARK & PEPPER POTTS and is, in addition to being an UNDERGRAD at paragon academy, a INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY TA and CAPTAIN OF THE GYMNASTICS & FENCING TEAMS. i hear she’s AUDACIOUS & COMPASSIONATE, but tends to be PRIDEFUL & CODEPENDENT. her file says that her powers are an IRON SUIT, GENIUS LEVEL INTELLECT & LATENT EXTREMIS VIRUS. redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

    girl walks, girl drowns, girl ( breaks ), girl burns ;                        but girl does not die.

SECTION ONE OF THREE: BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for infant health issues, talk of death

september 27th, twenty two years ago. it was a sticky autumn night when morgan antonia stark entered the world with a pitiful cry - last born and second daughter of tony stark and pepper potts. she was born to riches and prestige, but these were empty, really, in comparison to FAMILY. she had a mother and a father that loved her, dearly. she had an older brother that someday, she would surely find ways to idolize. she had people who cared for her and her safety that did so, not out of familial obligation, but because they cared for the stark-potts family ; the only pity was that they could all, as a collective, do little to save her from the worst that plagued her.

your baby is supposed to be perfect. they’re supposed to be all SOFT SKIN & powder smell. they aren’t supposed to be destined, it seems, to a life of sickness. the ventricular septal defect ( shaped like a tic tac ) was discovered only after her birth, all the scans throughout pepper’s pregnancy having shown nought. and morgan’s first few months of life were dotted with trips to the emergency room, and visits to the family doctor, something always seeming to be WRONG. infant colic was ten times worse, creating days of sleepless nights as they wondered would she be okay. she caught a chill when she was three weeks old, and was forced to spend a week in icu because of the resulting chest infection. the doctors who treated her were confident that over time, the hole in her heart stood a good chance at healing on it’s own, as many do. however, it DIDN’T get any better. as she got older, the effects of this became more and more pronounced. it seemed like she never didn’t have a chest infection. she wasn’t putting on weight. at times, her breathing was a struggle, and she was sleepy - sleepier than any baby they had ever known before, almost perpetually fatigued. the original plan had been to wait and see and hope that on it’s own, it would HEAL. at six months old, it became abundantly clear that such a thing wasn’t on the cards for morgan - and once apparent, she was booked in for open heart surgery.

your baby is supposed to be PERFECT, remember? she isn’t supposed to take ill every few days, and ultimately require surgery. it was a harrowing experience, and those first few months of morgan’s life were understandably marred - but if there had ever been any DOUBT before, it became clearer than day when she came out the other side of her surgery that the so far littlest stark was a FIGHTER, through and through. they had been prepared for a month long wait to bring her home, and that was ‘best case scenario’. they were able to do so in a fortnight. she didn’t cry, or fuss. it was like she knew the first little while had been tough, and had become hellbent on making everyone’s lives that little bit easier. lord knew they needed it. 

over time, morgan grew to be a REMARKABLY normal child. there were some differences, of course, between her and the kids she was surrounded by growing up - she required regular checkups, she needed to dress extra warmly in winter, and she always got a bit more wiped out at the end of an exciting day than anyone else - but anyone that knew the story behind the scar down the middle of her chest gaped in shock, watching her. she was never shy, never frightened. she swung from the lower boughs of trees, she sprinted at full speed and fell and got up, she was always the first to jump from atop the nearest high structure and declare that she was flying, like daddy - it seemed impossible to imagine that as a baby, she’d had a hole in her heart. that sort of health issue was associated only with those with a lot less life to them than the high-spirited girl that morgan had become, and never once had she allowed it to define her. she was a SPITFIRE, pure and simple, destined to never sit out of an experience, always the first one to give something a try. 

and she was spoiled. the real shock would have been if she hadn’t been. to say that the stark’s were comfortable would have been a gross understatement - they had the means with which to do it, so of course she was spoiled ; though morgan was taught in equal measure not to take such things for granted. money was material. fame was FICKLE. family, and friends ; they were what mattered most, and at that - they were what lasted forever. morgan was spoiled, but she had a good head on her shoulders. she knew right from wrong. she knew what was of VALUE to her, and it wasn’t cold hard cash. she was always something of a bleeding heart, and she loved stronger than the sun burned. she attracted “friends” like moths to a lamp as one of the popular kids, but while not all of them felt so genuinely towards her, morgan always LOVED them. if she befriended someone, if she cared about them, then it was impossible to shake her ; and this was a lonely existence, in a way, more obvious than ever before when she began to attend high school and realized, overnight, that a lot of her friends were not, in reality, her friends. they cared for what she could give to them, or what she could do. they cared about the status that came from being within a stark’s inner circle. but they didn’t really care about her. she had a loving family at home. she had family friends that were not so shallow as to love her only for what she possessed. but away at school, she found she had very few people she could trust, and only ONE who could be counted as her very best.

morgan stark and richard parker had been friends from childhood, toddlers that had grown alongside one another and by grace, or blessing, stayed within the same school years as they aged. the love they had burned BRIGHT and true, their friendship of the fierce and genuine kind. neither needed anything more than the other, and for someone like morgan - someone who was becoming increasingly aware of just how many people in her life came with strings attached - this was something rare and unusual and so beyond welcome. he was her closest confidant. her most valued adviser. her best friend, in every sense of the word.

and he would, in time, become her greatest source of guilt.

she was smart, and she was DRIVEN, and she was the daughter of heroes that the world knew were heroes - of course morgan grew up with a little bit of ‘save the world’ within her, because when it came down to it... she believed, wholeheartedly, that she had the motivations and the ABILITIES to do so. she had always been a mother hen, more protective of her friends than she had any right to be. always keeping an eye on them and the other children, always stepping in whether they did or did not need it. she fought for other people’s honor. she stuck up for the bullied, she offered to tutor ( or flat out do the homework of ) anyone that was left behind. she wanted to HELP people, even before she had hit double digits, and the itch to do so only grew when she did. it was something that she and her friend shared. a drive to be heroic.

imagine, then, if you will : a little girl with brains and bravery. a lonely, loving little girl, getting older now in age but never quite losing that naive belief that even she could do something incredible. someone that wanted to SAVE the world and the people in it, someone who had spend her whole life watching tv broadcasts of her father and his friends taking down villains across the globe. her older brother was now actively training to be someone that the world could look to and in a way, jealousy blossomed within morgan’s chest. by grace of her birth she had never known a time when she couldn’t defend herself, but still ; she felt overlooked. she felt, in a sense, SNUBBED, and time ticked by in which morgan found she COULDN’T, wouldn’t, sit around and do nothing anymore. the world was a wacky, flawed place to live. it needed more heroes than what it had, and richie - her best friend - would never have allowed her take on the monsters outside of her door without being at her side.

she stole an old mark stark suit from the deepest depths of storage, and using skills she had developed all on her own, reprogrammed it so that friday wouldn’t alert her father to what she was doing. she never told him, or her mother. they would have disapproved. they would have FORBIDDEN it. she was only fifteen, a child, and while she was smart - tony’s daughter through and through - it was as close to the blind leading the blind as anything could get. her parents would have put a stop to it before the adrenaline and the feeling that they were making a difference became the heady mixture that both of them got addicted to, and neither could ignore. if they had known, morgan would have never snuck out of their home that first day to meet with her friend in a back alley and begin prowling the streets, looking for trouble. it never would have continued.

but it DID. and for a while ; for a long while, at that, it seemed to go WELL for them. morgan had training, and wisdom that she could impart upon them - but both of them armed with stark branded weapons meant that, even if they got knocked down, they could do some damage on the way. she had the suit, so she typically ran point - but together, they were cleaning up the streets of new york, one petty criminal at a time. 

it was never anything too huge. never a fight they couldn’t win.

except for when it was.

two little kids decided not to call the big guns in when they stumbled across a shady deal taking place in a warehouse, in williamsburg, brooklyn. two little kids rushed into stop the bad guys, thinking that they could DO it. two little kids bit off more than they could chew when they discovered that what seemed to be run of the mill was anything but.

it should have been her. she had dragged him along - all the way along, if you wanted to go back to when they had started. she had wanted to be a hero, and she had tugged him with her so they could be a duo. that they could become two more famous names, somewhere down the line.

but it wasn’t her. and all the wishing, all her praying, all the begging afterwards wouldn’t change that, ever. the fight was chaotic. there were more inside than what they could handle, and neither had accounted for actual powers after all the petty street criminals they had tested themselves with. she saw him get knocked down - she dove to try and shield him, and the last thing that she remembered was instructing her a.i. to send out a distress signal. something collided with her, crippling her jets, spinning her off course ; the suit was old, and it couldn’t take the hit. she should have, could have, might have died.

it came pretty CLOSE. she awoke in the hospital what could have been hours or days later, parents at her side ; battered, broken, but still, miraculously, alive. the same could not be said about richard.

she couldn’t face his funeral. she was discharged the day before, but she never deluded herself into thinking that she belonged there. he wouldn’t have been in that situation, if it hadn’t been for morgan. he never would have tried their luck. never would have DIED. they were two children playing make believe, playing at an adults game ; and both of them had paid the price, but they would never get a do over.

it should have gone a lifelong number on her desire to be a hero. for a long while, it did. morgan secluded herself in the aftermath, dropping out of the prestigious school they had attended together out of thoughts that everyone there was looking to her with hatred, and finished her schooling at home. she honed her computer skills ; she worked in the garage, building a new suit that she couldn’t imagine ever wearing from scratch. 

it was a slow process in coming out her shell, once again, and trying to live her life. it had to be, when she didn’t believe that she deserved it. but attending paragon was an active decision. choosing to attend college and make something of herself came when she realized that she had a gift not everyone got - and her parents deserved to see her do more than wallow, for the rest of her life. she wants to TRY AGAIN, in all aspects. she wants to be better. do more. do good. she isn’t sure that she can, but she won’t go down without a fight 

SECTION TWO OF THREE: HEADCANONS trigger warnings for talk of death, ptsd, depression, alcoholism

morgan SHOULD have died. if anything could have been written in the stars of that fateful night, it would have been that her time was up. when the emergency services arrived, they had to cut her out of her suit - and her injuries should have killed her. what no one knew, until then, was that morgan was affected with at least partial extremis virus, due to pepper’s exposure. she healed, faster than she should have ; and it was questionable, but the lack of any other side effects had them hoping against hope that this would be the sum of it. morgan hasn’t had the heart to tell them that that night served as an awakening, of sorts, and that she’s been getting worse ever since.

alloy, noun. a metal made by combining two or more metallic elements, especially to give greater strength or resistance to corrosion. there was always a REASON for why morgan chose this as her alias.

she’s only ever had one pet ; duma, her now six year old newfoundland. he’s the light of morgan’s life, and was mostly a marked effort on her parents behalf to try and encourage her to leave the house - and the garage - more frequently. 

like her father, morgan has struggled with addiction since the death of her friend ; in LARGE because the guilt in combination to the grief was simply too much for her. she doesn’t recognize her own drinking as a problem, as she’s now been using alcohol to self medicate her obvious ptsd and depression for years, and considers it something of a crutch in social situations. however, it is present. and it is something that she should tackle, eventually.

morgan may captain the gymnastics and fencing teams, but her talents extend far beyond ; she was a childhood ballet dancer and piano player, and outside of these, was taught self defense from the moment she could put one foot in front of the other without falling down again.

she wasn’t just building herself a new suit for the past few years. morgan got very into HACKTIVISM, using skills she had developed while she was young to... well. do some good. she mightn’t have gone about it in the right ways, all the time, but her core drives have always been the same. 

SECTION THREE OF THREE: WANTED CONNECTIONS

family of her deceased best friend. does your char not have enough angst in their life? do you want them to have a sibling, child, nibling, pibling, cousin... something who was morgan’s closest friend, and was a part of her superhero escapades? then boy oh boy, do i have the wanted connect for you. please allow me stress that i have no ( immediate ) plans to request this person be brought back to life, as their death has had a HUGE affect on who and what morgan is, but... still. do they blame her? do they think that their relation made their own bed, so to speak? can they forgive her? will they refuse to? give me it all. taken by the parkers !

friends / best friends / close friends / etc. mark two. give morgan... people she grew up with, honestly. give her people who went partying with her way too much in the aftermath of all that happened, who became shoulders to cry on and people to lean on. ppl she wasn’t close to but is now, because... reasons. i’m sure we can come up with them.

childhood sweetheart. in the purest sense of the word. they were as thick as thieves, two peas in a pod - never dated, but everyone always ooed and awed and said that someday soon, they were gonna. cutesy little kid relationship !

and flings ! ex, current, whatever you can think of. morgan is pansexual panromantic, and she’s not always made the best of decisions. let her have had carnal relations with people she should hate. let her have had them with people she knows well. let them be one night stands. gimme all.

anything n anything tbh.

[mayquita]

Pictures of Reality (2/16)

Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I can't forget to express my gratitude to my beta, @jarienn972 . I'm aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and besides English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika ‘s blog and enjoy her amazing art / Art for the prologue / Art for chapter 1

Special mention to @saraswans , my perpetual companion in this world of writing. This story wouldn't be possible without you.

Word count: ~ 7500 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on: Ao3 / Ffnet /  Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Emma Swan. Storybrooke, two weeks ago, October 23, 2017

TheLadySwan Three in a row. It seems that the Gods of the traffic lights have conspired against me on my birthday. I'm late for my own celebration.

Emma was late, very late. She had never been characterized by her lateness, but it seemed that she had made a habit of it in the last weeks. She parked her car carelessly and ran to the cafe. She didn’t care what Regina would think, but Henry was there and she didn’t want to make him wait. Emma opened the door with some brusqueness, the bells announcing her arrival causing all the faces to turn towards her. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when her gaze met Henry, his face lighting up as he noticed her presence.

Today was a special day, not only because she was celebrating her twenty-eighth birthday, but just one year ago she returned to Storybrooke, her hometown. One year since she met that boy, who had succeeded in making her happy. Her lips rose slightly as she thought about that day when luck or destiny brought her here.

One year ago

Contrary to what Emma had expected, the first time she saw the welcome sign to the town while crossing the road in her yellow bug, she did not feel butterflies in her stomach, nor did her heart tighten in her chest at the thought of returning home. She only felt a fear that crawled up her throat and spread its tentacles causing an imperious need to turn back and get away from there. Emma ignored that impulse though, her hands clutching the steering wheel of her car until her knuckles turned white while her eyes remained fixed on the road. That intimidating sign was not going to stop her from continuing her way. It was just a job interview and she was sure she had no chance, but since she was there, nothing, not even that constant fear, was going to stop her from trying.

Despite her determination, when she drove through the main street, she could not help but wonder about the same questions that had haunted her since she saw the ad in the newspaper. Why did her parents give her up for adoption? She could have grown up here. Or maybe she would have traveled with her family capturing the world through her inseparable camera. No. Family life and adventure were not in her cards. She seemed to have been born with a destiny already marked. No one had stayed long enough — for one reason or another. Either people disappeared from her life, or she ended up pushing them away.

She at least had the consolation that her parents had not abandoned her, that perhaps she was given up for adoption to offer her an opportunity they could not give her. And if her adoptive parents had not died when she was three years old, maybe she would have had the opportunity to grow up with a real family... but it seemed destiny had something different in store for her…

Although she tried to push those thoughts out of her mind during the job interview, they were still latent, threatening to resurface at any sign of weakness. To her relief, her efforts to keep her demons at bay seemed to have an effect as the interview progressed, especially since the interviewer focused mostly on personal aspects, rather than on professional skills. After finishing, the secretary shook her hand and suggested that she stay in the town since she would have an answer the next day. The man said goodbye to her with a slight bow of the head, a tight smile and an enigmatic look that Emma was not able to identify.

It was after leaving the town hall when the meaning of what had just happened hit her hard. When she embarked on this adventure of returning to her hometown, she did it not with the intention of radically changing her life, because the idea of really getting the job never went through her mind, but as a kind of challenge, something stupid, she thought, but it was as if her whole body had wanted to scream from the rooftops. ‘I'm here. I'm back. And in spite of everything, I have survived.’

But now that she had to spend a whole day in Storybrooke, with uncertainty hovering over her head, the urge to run away became stronger. Because walking through these streets meant that any of the people she crossed paths with could be one of her parents. When she was younger, she had created a thousand stories to justify the abandonment. They all revolved around heroic acts, as in a fairy tale, and at least she managed to forget her reality for a moment. But maybe now it was time to face that reality instead of ignoring it or escaping from it by creating fairy tales. These streets were going to tell her their story and she would have no choice but to listen to them.

To her surprise, as she moved with tentative steps through the streets, that gripping sensation began to fade. It was as if the town itself was sending a silent message. While she walked through the streets and discovered its corners, a sense of a certain calm began to take hold of her. The idea of walking through the same places that her parents would have walked so long ago — maybe they were still doing it — made her feel at peace with herself, as if, somehow, she had managed to connect to them. That had to be a good sign. She was going to cling to this opportunity, to this sign of destiny that she had received in the form of an advertisement in the newspaper, with all her strength.

Once she could overcome the initial oppressive fear, Emma began to see the town with different eyes, her lips curling into her first genuine smile since she left Boston — perhaps for much longer. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but while before the cause was fear, now it was anticipation. She began to imagine what life would be like in a town as calm as it seemed to be Storybrooke, what it would be like to walk along the docks, take lunch at the main street diner, meet its inhabitants… Enough! She slowed the escalation of thoughts that had gripped her. That was not happening. Tomorrow, she would return to her monotonous and lonely life in Boston. Sadly, that was her true destiny.

But it was clear that destiny had other plans for her. The next day, the day she turned twenty-seven, she got the job. And with it, the opportunity for a fresh start, to direct her life in the right direction.

But for that fresh start to begin, she would have to meet her boss. For that reason, today Emma was at the town hall reception, waiting to be attended by the mayor, Regina Mills. The damn wait was becoming eternal, a breeding ground for her insecurities to bloom. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she wrung her hands, wondering over and over again why she would have been chosen. Just when she was about to give up, the secretary, the same person who had done the interview, addressed her and pointed his head towards the office's door. The moment had arrived.

“Come in.”

When Emma stepped into the office, her eyes widened while wandering around the room. The office was decorated soberly and elegantly, in all black and white. Behind a beautiful desk was the one she supposed would be Regina Mills, the mayor. Her first impression was in a way, shocking. She had imagined an affable person, but the woman in front of her was the opposite, with an imposing, haughty and intimidating look. Emma remained standing, unsure what to do next while an awkward silence loomed over them.

"Miss Swan? Take a seat, please.” Regina gave her a long, deep look before pointing at the empty chair in front of the desk. It was obvious that the mayor was studying her, but if there was something that characterized Emma, it was her determination, so she held her gaze while raising her chin in a gesture of defiance.

"Well, Miss Swan. Let's get to the point. As you'll understand, I'm a very busy person." Regina rested both elbows on the desk as she crossed her hands in front of her before continuing."I did not have the pleasure of interviewing you, but I fully trust my secretary's abilities. I think he definitely found what we were looking for." She paused, staring at Emma, her gaze unreadable. Emma held her gaze, but she could not help feeling a strange sensation, as if she wanted to read further, reach her very soul. Her lips remained sealed. Waiting.

"I'm going to explain now what your functions will be. As you may have noticed, Miss Swan, I have several assistants who are engaged in different tasks, but I need someone of my complete confidence to perform certain functions, and this is where you come in. The job of mayor requires absolute dedication and therefore, I will also demand it from you. At any time, I may need your services and you will be available to carry them out. If I need you to go visit the sheriff station you will do it, at any time of the day. If I need you to visit any of the citizens to solve any urban issue, you will go when I tell you to."

Emma remained in a stubborn silence, although inside her blood had begun to run hot. She clenched her jaw as she bit her tongue in an attempt to avoid responding to such display of haughtiness. Her irritation grew at times when she saw how a shadow of triumph crossed the eyes of the mayor, as if she had achieved her goal of reducing her to a mere pawn. Emma felt her stomach drop to her toes as she realized how her hopes were gradually fading.

"And one more thing, the most important, in fact. Your main task will be to take care of my son." Emma was slow to react, but when her brain registered the meaning of her words, her eyes widened in surprise. This time they were not merely her imaginations, Regina wore a triumphant look. And Emma hated her a bit for that. "Excuse me?" She mumbled as she felt the blushing of humiliation creep from her neck to her cheeks.

"Ms. Swan, my son, Henry, is my priority, but my job as mayor is a full-time job, and I do not want to leave my son unattended because of that. Therefore, if I am busy, you will pick up Henry from school, take him to the library if I can't do it, or help him with his homework."

Emma pursed her lips, her heart pounding against her rib cage. It was her anger that finally got her to emit more than two words in a row. "So, if I understand correctly, my new job will be to run errands and babysitting." Emma snapped with ill-concealed sarcasm as she gave Regina a fake smile. Two could play this game.

The two women looked at each other, one with a haughty expression, the other with a look of defiance, waiting for the next movement, while an oppressive silence loomed over them. After a few seconds in which the tension between them could almost be cut with a knife, Regina finally broke it.

"Take it as a challenge, Miss Swan." Her expression softened subtly, though her next words acted as darts against her heart. "You can choose a new beginning, or leave before you start and go back to your ordinary, lonely life."

Emma let out a snort as she shook her head and stood up, ready to leave. She had had enough. Regina did not seem to take the hint, though. She continued, causing in Emma an almost unstoppable need to cover her ears. She did not want to hear anything else.

"I see that you are going to choose the easy way... it doesn't surprise me, given your history... but perhaps you should listen to one more thing before you run away. You may be interested to know that Henry, my son, has something in common with you. He is adopted, as you were."

Emma stopped short, her whole body tense, her hands curled into fists as she turned to face Regina. "How do you know that? What do you know about me?" She hissed through her clenched jaw as she shot her a murderous look.

"I know enough, Miss Swan." Regina replied holding her gaze showing a cold temper. "This may be an unknown town in Maine, but I have my contacts. Did you think I was going to trust anyone to take care of my son? I'm giving you a chance, despite your history. You decide - are you going to run away like you've done before?"

Emma repressed the urge to tell her to go to hell while she felt the disappointment washing over her. Just a few minutes ago she was hopeful, eager to start that new project, but now... "You don't know me." To her surprise, Emma's voice did not betray her inner turmoil. She was not going to give the satisfaction to that woman.

Just as she was about to turn around in the direction of the exit, her gaze caught on a frame resting on a shelf next to the desk. Her heart tightened in her chest when she saw that it was a family photo. Regina appeared with her arm around the shoulders of a boy of about eight years old, brown hair, brown eyes. The child, Henry she supposed, was flashing a friendly smile. That little smile was the one that disarmed her. Her eyes closed for a moment, as she tried to pull herself together. She could have been that child, she could have had someone to care for her, and yet... Emma shook her head slightly, as she swallowed hard. After releasing a deep sigh, she finally made a decision. That boy needed her. Her running time was over.

He seemed happy and Regina seemed to care enough for him so maybe she was destined to come back to Storybrooke for that reason, to make sure that child did not go through the same hell as her. Emma approached Regina again, both holding their gazes for a moment, Emma's stomach clenched in knots. Finally, she expressed her decision with only one question. "When do I start?"

 A warm feeling spread across her chest the moment she caught sight of Henry sitting in a booth in front of his mother, in the same place they had chosen just a year ago.

"Emma!" Henry shouted in greeting as he waved his hand gesturing for her to come closer, his face splitting into a giant grin the second he saw her. Henry did not even wait for her to get to the booth, but instead hurried to his feet and wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug. "Happy Birthday!"

Emma did not react at first, not yet used to these public displays of affection after so many years alone. Even so, her heart fluttered for that little boy who had accepted her without hesitation from the moment they met just a year before. "Thank you, kid, and I'm sorry to be late," she said while ruffling his hair.

"I guess the congratulations are in order, Emma." She barely had time to sit in front of Regina when her boss addressed her. "I hope your tardiness doesn't become a habit." She added as she raised an eyebrow in warning.

Emma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and instead gave her a tight smile. Despite their tense start, their relationship had softened throughout the year, thanks mostly to the kid. But there were times, especially when Regina displayed all that aura of superiority and arrogance that Emma found difficult to bear. Other times, she would catch Regina sneaking an enigmatic glance at her, as if she would try to decipher something hidden inside her, or as if she was aware of something Emma did not know. Luckily those occasions were rare, because Emma did not feel comfortable under that scrutiny.

She shook her head slightly in an attempt to make those thoughts evaporate. Today was not a day for complaints, today was a special day. They had something to celebrate and nothing - and no one - would spoil her moment. For the next few minutes, she focused on Henry, who entertained them with stories about the school and about the book he was reading. He was a great kid, smart, friendly and with a big heart. She could not be more grateful for having accepted that offer despite its frustrating start.

As it turned out, staying in Storybrooke had changed her life. Even so, Emma still carried too many demons from the past. Her old habits of not opening up to others in order to protect her heart were still deeply rooted in her. There was a persistent hole in her heart, not so deep now, but always latent. And that feeling increased every time she walked the streets and remembered her parents. 

Despite having access to the town's archives, she had not made any effort to seek information and had not asked Regina, although she suspected that perhaps her boss, who seemed to control every little detail of Storybrooke, could be the most appropriate source of information. A paralyzing fear prevented her. It was as if she was afraid to face the answers she might find, or as if knowing about her origin threatened the stability she had found when she arrived here and decided to stay. No. She was not going to risk the best thing that had happened to her in her entire life.

Thanks to her work, she had no choice but to deal with most of the inhabitants of the town and Henry himself had introduced her to the people who would be the closest thing to friends she had, Ruby, Granny's waitress, and Graham, the Sheriff of Storybrooke. Friendship was still a new concept for her, but these two people seemed to have accepted her as she was, and, although she still maintained her protective armor, it was becoming weaker and weaker thanks to the security she had found.

Just then, as if her memories had invoked them, Ruby and Graham made their appearance. The moment Graham spotted them, he went to the booth they occupied, offering her a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek in congratulation.

Ruby also approached them holding a cupcake topped by a lighted candle. Emma’s mind traveled immediately to the year before, when she experienced a similar scene, surrounded almost by the same people, although on that occasion, both her head and her heart were much more troubled.

On the same day that Emma had decided to accept the job, Regina had entrusted her to go to pick up Henry at school, without even giving her time to acclimate or to return to Boston to pack. "It's Friday, Miss Swan, go meet my son and then you'll have the whole weekend to say goodbye to your old life." Regina had told her before dismissing her with a wave of her hand.

In retrospect, Emma still did not know the reason why she had confessed to Henry that day was her birthday when she had known him for only two minutes. By the time the boy had found out, he had insisted on organizing a celebration. "Everyone deserves a party on their birthday." He had assured with determination, causing her heart to flip. The little boy had offered her more in just five minutes than any of the people she had dealt with in the past.

That's how they had ended up at Granny's, right in this same booth. And that's how she first had met Ruby, the sassy waitress and granddaughter of the owner, who had rushed to prepare an impromptu birthday party for a person she had just met. Maybe this was something common among small towns, Emma had wondered, a little bit overwhelmed by the attention she received.

That first day with Henry had meant the beginning of a series of experiences that, until that moment, had been denied to her. Like blowing a candle surrounded by people instead of doing it with only the four walls of her solitary apartment as witnesses. Or that someone would sing Happy Birthday to her for the first time— at least of what she was aware of. Her time with the Swans was too short and she was too small to remember. And in the different foster homes and group homes, it was simply something that did not happen, at least not to her.

That unexpected celebration had also meant a change in a small tradition that she had followed since she first got a camera. Every year, no matter what the circumstances, however lonely or hopeless she was, she took a picture of herself in her birthday just before she blew the candle. She kept those photos saved in an album, as vestiges of her life, not as a proof of the loneliness that had always accompanied her, but as a reminder that she would never lose faith. She would always blow a candle, trusting that maybe, at some point, her wishes would finally be heard.

She had hoped that this was the first of many similar photos and time seemed to be showing that she was right since now she was going to experience again that feeling of being part of a group, of belonging to something. Before blowing the candle, she looked at Henry, who nodded in encouragement. Then her eyes went to Ruby and Graham, both of whom were holding their phones pointing towards her, prepared to immortalize the moment. When they both lifted their thumbs in unison, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and then expelled the air and with it the wish that nothing would change. That was all she needed.

When she opened her eyes, she found three pairs of eyes looking at her expectantly — Regina pretended to be very interested in the state of her nails — while Henry began to stir restlessly in his seat, his gaze traveling from Emma to his mother. Emma cocked her head as she narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips rising due to Henry's behavior. It was obvious that the boy was after something, no matter how much he tried to hide his excitement. Regina also noticed it as, after raising her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, "Patience is not your greatest virtue, it's evident," she bent to reach for something under the table and passed the bag to her son. Henry hurriedly pulled the contents out of the bag and placed a package decorated with wrapping paper, right in front of Emma, while his lips curled into an adorable smile and his eyes sparkled with anticipation.

"Open it!" He required, unable to hide his impatience.

This was also new. Gifts. Someone thinking about her and buying something just for her. Emma felt a lump forming in her throat and sudden tears threatened to slide down her cheeks. She blinked a couple of times to hold back the tears and began to open the gift with slightly trembling hands before the attentive glances of Ruby, Graham, Henry and Regina.

Her eyes widened in shock when she saw the contents of the box. A DSLR camera. A simple object that had a great meaning for her, a future full of possibilities. "How..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze sought Henry's. "I... I can't accept it, it's too much." Emma muttered as an overwhelming sensation crept up to her heart.

"You don't like it." A shadow of disappointment crossed Henry's gaze causing her stomach to tighten into knots, so she hurriedly explained.

"Of course, I like it, Henry, but you didn't have to bother with such an expensive gift." She said in a soft voice, her lips drawing a grateful smile.

"You can consider it a kind of retribution for your dedication to the tasks entrusted this past year." Emma was surprised by Regina's unusual gentle tone in addressing her. "It was Henry's idea, after all." She added as she shrugged, the corners of her lips rising slightly. Regina going soft was so new that she felt like using her new camera for the first time just to immortalize the moment.

"I thought it was a good idea, since you're always taking pictures." Henry tried to explain himself in a hesitant voice.

"It's the best gift I've ever had, thank you very much." Emma assured him. That was enough for his face to light up, a giant smile blooming on his face, making her heart melt a little more in the process.

"And that's not all." Graham announced bringing another much smaller package. "Ruby and I also wanted to contribute in some way."

"Open it, open it!" Ruby added, bouncing excitedly.

Emma let herself be infected by the enthusiasm of her friends and accepted the package. It seemed that the surprises were not over. The moment she saw the content a gasp escaped her lips.

12-week amateur photography course taught by professional photographer Killian Jones.

Emma was unable to look away from the card in front of her. This was too much. When she agreed to this little celebration, she only hoped to spend a pleasant evening with people important to her. However, what they were offering was not only a gift, it was the possibility of fulfilling her dreams, of making her passion escalate to a new level. She did not know how she could compensate these people for everything they were doing for her.

"It starts in two weeks." Ruby explained. "And I've been told that the instructor is a hottie." She added as her eyebrows danced suggestively, earning a roll of eyes from Graham at her side.

"Miss Lucas, do you realize that there are children in front of you? Watch your mouth." Regina hissed as she cast a sidelong glance at Henry. He didn't seem to mind, quite the contrary, since he began to giggle, getting the others, including Emma herself, to follow him. Even the corners of Regina's lips rose subtly, the barest hint of a smile crossed her features.

"You're going to go, aren't you?" Graham asked, his penetrating gaze and his insistent voice making it impossible to reject it.

"Of course. Besides..." Before continuing, Emma cast a sidelong glance at Regina and Henry and then placed her hands around her mouth, as if she were confessing a secret and muttered, "...I've been told that the instructor is a hottie, I couldn't possibly refuse."

Graham rolled his eyes again, an amused grin tugging at his lips, while Regina huffed and Ruby lifted her hand to Henry's for a high five.

Emma couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from twisting upwards, drawing a smile full of affection for all these people. She clung to the card that contained the course information while trying to calm down, unsuccessfully, since she was so excited and grateful for the opportunity they were giving her that she did not know whether to laugh, cry, or hug everyone. Maybe she could do all three things at once. It was her special day, wasn't it? She was allowed to do whatever she wanted. So she parked her fears for a moment and postponed her nervousness for the next day. Today, she was going to enjoy her twenty-eighth birthday fully.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke, Present Day - November 4, 2017

"Seriously?"

When Emma had to stop the car at the third red traffic light in a row since she left her apartment, she wondered if the traffic Gods were sending her some kind of premonitory signal. She suppressed the impulse to bang her head against the steering wheel and instead began tapping it with her fingertips, while mumbling, "come on, turn to green."

Five minutes late. Her heart hammered in her chest when she finally spotted the library building, where the course she was attending — or would attend, if she could get there at some point — would take place. She parked in the first free spot she found, grabbed her purse and her camera and rushed to the entrance.

"It's the first door on the left." Belle, the librarian, pointed to the hallway the moment she saw her, no doubt aware of her tardiness. "The class has just started, Emma, don't worry." Belle added, leaning on the counter while offering a reassuring smile.

Emma nodded, her lips drawing a tight smile, as she headed straight for the door. Only when she was in front of it did she take a second to catch her breath and pull herself together. Her eyes closed for a moment as she inhaled deeply in an attempt to spread calm throughout her body. Then, she opened the door.

Several pairs of eyes turned toward her, but she ignored them, murmuring an apology as she walked swiftly with her head down toward the only free chair in the room, one fortunately far enough away to allow her not to draw too much attention. She did not even look at the guy who was sitting in front of the class, the instructor, she supposed.

Only when she felt comfortable enough, from the shelter of her seat and with her camera placed on the table in front of her, did she dare to look at the person who would be her instructor for the next few weeks.

Holy shit, Ruby was right. Emma thought when her gaze met the man's - two blue eyes staring at her intently while his head tilted slightly. Her cheeks began to burn at the scrutiny, but she did not look away and when neither did he, she noticed how a hint of interest crossed his gaze.

"I'm glad that you have finally decided to honor us with your presence..." The man took a look at the tablet he held in his hand and then looked back at her. "...Miss Swan."

A chill ran down her spine when she heard him, but Emma was not sure if the reason was his accent or the sardonic tone of his voice or the way he pronounced her last name, gently sliding the word between his lips. Still, his scrutiny and his slight reproaching tone made her shuffle uncomfortably in her seat. So much for making a good impression on the first day, she thought. "Sorry, it was the traffic." She muttered an excuse that sounded unconvincing, even though it was true. Sort of.

"Oh, sure, traffic, that big problem in a town like Storybrooke." His sarcastic tone did not disappear, causing Emma to press her lips together into a thin line, in an attempt to hold back the biting retort burning on the tip of her tongue. She did not need to continue embarrassing herself. "Anyway, now that we're all here, we'd better continue with the introduction to keep moving forward in our first class. Since all the others have been punctual, it's just you, Miss Swan, so you'd be so kind to let us know who are you and why are you here?"

All heads turned in her direction, causing her shoulders to lift and her cheeks to burn again. She suppressed the urge to run away though, and decided to behave like the grown woman that she was supposed to be. At least that's what her brain thought, her mouth had other plans. "Honestly, I don't think that's necessary, everyone already knows me here."

"Everyone except me. So, who are you, Miss Swan?"

Emma cleared her throat as she straightened in her seat, keeping the man's scrutinizing gaze. "I'm Emma Swan, the mayor's personal assistant."

"And why did you decide to join this course, Emma Swan?"

Why did that man look at her so intensely? It was as if he was trying to find something beyond her gaze, as if he was waiting for a certain response on her part. Maybe it was the nerves caused by such scrutiny, or the tension of not being sure what answer he was looking for. Whatever it was, her mouth decided to act on her own again while her brain was still processing what would be the most appropriate response.

"I just got this camera and the course to learn how to handle it."

The moment the last word slipped between her lips Emma was aware that her answer had been completely wrong. Any glimmer of interest that could have hidden the instructor's look vanished in an instant, the disappointment was written all over his face.

He looked away after letting out a sigh— of resignation perhaps? — just when her brain decided to come out then of its lethargy, all the explanations she should have given popping up into her head. Photography is my passion. It's the best way I have to express myself. I'd like to absorb all the knowledge that an expert like you can offer me in order to give the best of me in this art. Too late.

But the worst part was still to come. In case Emma hadn't embarrassed herself enough, something caught her attention as the instructor held the tablet, a glimpse of his left hand, or technically, of what appeared to replace his hand. Her eyes widened in surprise when she detected that there was a prosthesis at the end of his left arm. Emma frowned with a mixture of confusion and admiration as she wondered how he would manage to handle such a complex camera with one hand when she had difficulties with both hands.

When she looked up, she met Killian's penetrating gaze, who had caught her staring at the prosthesis. Emma looked away, while she felt like a furious blush of embarrassment crept up from her neck to her cheeks. She wished at that moment that a hole would open under her feet and suck her to free her from this agony. So much for that first good impression.

"Thanks for your input, Emma." He said through a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "And now, we better enter fully into the subject." He finally seemed to give a break to his scrutiny, addressing the rest of the students. "Welcome everyone to the fascinating world of photography."

Killian — that was his name, wasn't that? Shit, she should have looked at the card before coming, to be sure, or have arrived earlier, so she would not have missed his introduction — turned to reach for his backpack placed on the desk, looked for something inside and then held it with his right hand. A camera. Obviously. "Although it may be intimidating, once you have learned the basics to operate this small device, it will become your faithful companion, following all your steps wherever you go. So, today's class will consist of familiarizing ourselves with our respective devices. The camera is not our enemy but our ally here, so what better than to get the best out of it?"

For the next few minutes, Emma focused on his explanations in an attempt to forget the previous embarrassing moments. It was not a complicated task, since it was evident that the guy knew what he was doing. Perhaps it was his simple and close language, far from complicated technicalities, perhaps the passion that his words gave off, whatever it was, the next hour flew by while Emma listened, enthralled by all his explanations as she tried to absorb all his knowledge putting them into practice with her own camera.

"And now guys, the time for your defining moment has come."

Emma narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, a sense of mild panic gripping her as she followed his every move. The others seemed to feel the same, since they began to murmur among themselves as they shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Come on, guys, I guess you're already tired of my boring talk. Now comes the best part of the classes - the practice.” Emma could not help but feel a pull of excitement at the possibility that he was offering to potentially rectify her uncomfortable start. Maybe she could not control her mouth or her thoughts, maybe she could not even control the camera, but she did know how to look through a lens.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw someone raising a hand. Aurora Prince. Killian nodded at her as a prompt for her to speak. "So, we're going to take pictures?"

No. We are going to paint our nails. Seriously?  Emma suppressed the impulse to roll her eyes while wondering what people like Aurora and her husband did here. They had never shown any interest in photography. Or Leroy, the most grumpy person in the world. Maybe he was here to get through the typical Saturday hangover, keeping himself safe from his numerous brothers. A snort escaped her mouth as she imagined such a scenario, gaining the reproachful look of some of her classmates and a smirk from the instructor himself.

"Yeah, we're going to take pictures." Killian confirmed without giving any sign of sarcasm. Apparently, he was more diplomatic than her. "I'd like to know with what level of skill each one of you starts, to be able to adapt the following classes to your needs, so I thought that for this first practice, you could work in pairs and take some portrait photos."

All the others seemed to move in coordination because, in a matter of a couple of minutes, they had all been paired. Everyone except her, of course. Emma tried to ignore the pang of hurt, trying to justify the fact that she had been rejected. Most of the couples formed already had a previous relationship, she told herself. Robin and Will were friends, Elsa and Anna, sisters, Aurora and Phillip were married. Emma did not know that Ariel and Tink were related, though. And the union between Archie and Leroy was like a little thorn in her heart. But Leroy was Archie's patient, maybe it was a kind of therapy or something?

Emma was so focused on analyzing the pairings and justifying them, trying to stop the — unfortunately well-known —feeling of rejection, that she did not realize at first that the instructor had appeared beside her.

"I guess that leaves us together, huh?"

Her head snapped up at the close sound of his voice. "Uhm, I guess I have no other choice." She shrugged, one side of her mouth tugging up as she looked at him. Holy shit! Now that she had him closer, his eyes seemed even bluer, and his scruff had an interesting reddish shade in contrast to his dark hair, and those lips... Focus, Emma!  She shook her head subtly as she grabbed the camera with hesitant movements.

This was so awkward. Emma glanced at the others, who seemed to be having a good time, all smiles — except for Leroy — poses, and funny faces in front of the camera. Meanwhile, she was there, in a corner of the room, in front of the instructor, who had crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for instructions, she supposed. And to create even more tension, she felt that this was like a test. She had to prove to herself that this was what she really wanted to do.

"Do you need some help there?" He offered through a gentle smile.

"Uh, no," she breathed as she bit her lower lip, rocking back and forth on her feet, "I'm just trying to figure out what to do."

"It's okay, lass. This is not a test of technique. Feel free to do anything that crosses your mind. I'm at your disposal here."

Maybe it was his soft voice, his nod of encouragement or maybe that sparkle of interest that had returned to his eyes. The fact is that she swallowed any insecurity she might have had and got down to work. She grabbed the camera with determination and began to instruct him to move slightly or stand in a certain position while she tried to make the necessary adjustments and find something creative that could express some meaning. He obliged without a single complaint, an amused half-smile never disappearing from his lips.

Finally, she found what she was looking for - the most suitable background for her photo. After giving him the last instructions and making the last adjustments, she looked through the viewfinder and, once satisfied with the image on the other side of the lens, she shot a couple of photos. Next, she looked at the result through the camera's screen. Her intention had been to photograph only half of Killian's face, focusing on his eye, whose color matched the color of the background. She had also wanted to include the word that appeared on the poster in the background, also in blue tones. Learn. The idea was there, she thought pleased, although she found something odd in the background.

"Let's see what we have here." Killian approached then, pointing towards the camera. "May l?"

"Yeah." She handed him the device, while her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her stomach clenched in knots of anticipation for knowing the opinion of the expert. To her relief, his eyes went wide briefly as his lips twisted in approval. Or at least she hoped so.

"Your choice is quite interesting." When Killian turned his gaze from the camera to her eyes, she could detect that the brightness of interest had become more pronounced. "Can I ask you why you chose this type of portrait? Let's say, it's a bit atypical."

"Well..." She hoped her voice wasn't shaking. "I assumed that the others would make more traditional photos, so I considered taking a more innovative angle."

Killian cocked his head slightly to one side, arching one of his eyebrows, as if deciding what to say next. Emma held her breath until he decided to speak again. "The result is quite satisfactory. We'd have to work a bit more on the approach, though, but it's original and creative. Good job, lass."

Emma felt her stomach flutter due to both his words and the appreciative smile he gave her. Maybe that's why she finally dared to express what she had wanted to do at the beginning. "I'm not here just for the camera. I mean, it's true that it's a gift and that I have no idea what to do with it, not yet, but I'm going to learn. I love photography both as media and as art, and I want to express myself through pictures. " She slightly raised the hand that held the camera to reinforce her words. "I want to create stories through it."

This time, her choice of words did seem adequate. Killian looked at her with a new glow in his eyes, something she could not identify exactly, but that made it impossible to look away. It was only when he spoke again that she was able to get out of the trance to which she had been subjected by the spell of his eyes. "I'm glad to hear that, lass. Maybe our paths have crossed for a reason, maybe we're on the right track to finding what we're both looking for."

Hope. That was what she detected behind his intense gaze. And also the shadow of something deeper, as if those eyes had witnessed many stories, not all pleasurable. Emma felt hopelessly attracted by the enigma that Killian Jones had become, finding herself wanting to know those stories and to understand the cryptic meaning of his words. She had eleven weeks ahead to find out.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

What to expect in the next chapter? We'll discover more pieces of Killian's backstory from David's point of view, and the connection between the two of them. And the photography course will continue with the second class.