#and never wants to be anywhere near another hermit ever again

[hiding-under-the-willow]

Absolutely adore ur watcher rt! Been wondering how he would interact with people whove been on evo (if it happened). Or how people like grian would think abt how he acts. On one hand can you blame a guy whos never been mortal? On the other hand would they even know and if they know would they be able to accept it?

I just find it so fun to imagine how rt would react to their reactions and how he interacts with other watchers and related people!

Oh so this is a kind of interesting topic that is kind of actually relevant to the story I've got planned for him.

To keep things as spoiler free as possible, I'll simply say that uhhhh Grian and other relevant (ie. Empires or Hermitcraft linked) Evo members certainly would not like him by the end of the main story arc I have planned out. and that while RT is one of the few watchers who actually doesn't have any real problem with Grian as like. A defector. He certainly may have some more personal issues with him by the end of the same story arc.

I kind of like the idea of him and Grian begrudgingly ending up on the same team at some point though later down the line once RT has had some more character development (think the thing I was talking about in the last post about him butting heads with the higher ups) and realizing they're more similar than they may have thought even if they have different conceptualizations of the world.

[fruggo]

the boys x tough f!reader (part 2)

requested by : @dranonymous

i love this idea and i hope you all enjoy part two! :D here’s part 1 with the original request.

warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence, dwight is really cute, danny is an asshole, jake is that cute “stoic man who is actually caring and thoughtful” trope because i say so

𝐃𝐖��𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

you are so cool. like ,,,,,so cool

dwight admires you so much. you just got here and yet you are breaking pyramid head’s ankles—dodging his trail of torment left and right, the killer just can’t touch you.

and how did you feel about everything? terrified, honestly, but nobody would ever be able to tell because you didn’t let it get to you. it was like you had already been here before, because the second you learned how to do something, you had it down no problem. fixing generators came naturally, and you could also run the killer for the whole trial if you had to. teammates could easily rely on you to do whatever needed to be done.

that was what made you and dwight such a powerful duo. from the moment you met, you knew you felt comfortable around this guy. he was sweet, maybe a little timid sometimes, but he knew how to step up and be a leader for everyone despite his fears.

you both knew what to do, and you fit together like a glove. your minds worked in very similar ways, which made communicating that much easier and efficient; the second a decision needed to be made, dwight was on top of it, encouraging the teammates and helping them get on their feet. you were already ahead of them, so dwight would just nod to you, knowing you could do your job well.

of course, there were times when dwight’s anxiety got the better of him, and you had to be the one encouraging him.

dwight hated the hag. despised her. he could not stand her jumpscares when a trap was triggered, he would swear he was about to have a heart attack. he couldn’t admit this at first, but you figured it out when feng min was hooked and dwight stuck to the generator, nervously glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. he always went for the saves, so something was obviously wrong.

“dwight? why don’t you go save her?” you asked, eyeing him from your side of the generator.

he didn’t respond, looking over his shoulder again.

you decided to rescue min, but when you got back, you were going to chew dwight out until he gave you a straight answer.

you crawled up to the hook to avoid triggering a trap and gently lowered min to the ground. the two of you inched away carefully until you were far enough away to patch her wound.

“dwight, get off your ass and answer me,” you demanded (affectionately) once you were back at the generator, which was nearly finished. “what’s wrong?”

his eyes conveyed nervousness in every sense of the word; they darted all around, searching for any incoming danger. this was your first time seeing him like this, so you were confused. was he alright?

“it’s just…the hag,” he started, still fiddling with the wires. “her traps, i can’t…”

oh. was he anxious about the traps?

“i just can’t deal with them,” he finally said with difficulty. that was understandable; when they caught you off guard it definitely made you leap out of your skin.

“dwight, listen,” you said. “you’ve dealt with every other killer in this realm, haven’t you? you’ve bested the nurse, the huntress, micky myers, and even the spirit, who’s a bitch. i know hag’s traps are fucking terrifying, but you’re dwight! you are a leader, and you are good at being a leader. you can get out of here, i promise. and besides, with me here, you have nothing to worry about. i’ll kick that witch’s ass, got it?”

your very inspirational speech got him to smile. you were right, anyways—you could definitely kick the hag’s ass. what could go wrong?

nothing, actually. genuinely nothing went wrong. you took chase for the rest of the trial so that dwight didn’t have to worry about a thing, and everybody escaped with no problem. he didn’t understand how you were so good at evading capture—but perhaps you would tell him about your past eventually. you hadn’t yet decided.

back at the campfire, you and dwight comfortably sat side-by-side, patiently waiting until your next trials.

“thanks,” he said.

“for what?”

“for that very motivational speech you gave me,” he laughed.

you wiped imaginary dust off of your shoulder, giving him a confident smile. “i got your back. and man, that hag lady really is a bitch, huh? i can see why you hate her.”

that comment unintentionally caused one of dwight’s long, angry rants about his least favorite killer, and all you could do was watch him and listen with a soft grin on your lips. you’d never seen him angry before—it was adorable. made you wonder if you should just piss him off for fun sometimes.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊

this guy has hella respect for you

you’re independent and easy to teach, and that’s everything he could ask for.

now and then, the other survivors basically gave newbies to jake to teach them everything about the realm—they considered him the expert on all things survival. you were one of those newbies he was forced to take care of.

jake normally hated teaching new survivors more than anything, because it was never his choice and they were all so difficult. but you were different. you were responsible, reliable, and smart, and it made his job so much easier. as time went on, he grew to be quite fond of you.

word eventually got out that the new girl had managed to charm jake out of his “hermit ways,” but he insisted that it was not true (he also disagreed about the “hermit ways” part). it was never spoken of between the two of you, but it definitely floated around in the air waiting to be addressed.

it really couldn’t be ignored any longer. anytime you were seen anywhere within 24 feet of each other, the other survivors would give you looks and wiggle their eyebrows or shoot you a thumbs up—all of which were unwanted. it created a weird tension between you and jake that wasn’t there before, and you really didn’t like it.

you missed when you were first starting out, and jake had just realized how competent you are. those days were fun—he respected you a lot; you could see it in his face when he looked at you. you always knew when he was pleased and when you did stuff right, because he would have the tiniest, most subtle grin on his face, but you could see it, and it made you feel accomplished.

you knew he still respected you, but you had basically jumped the learning curve of the realm and quickly adapted to every killer, every challenge, and every task. how you did it, nobody could ever know. but you were almost sad, because there was kind of no reason for you and jake to spend a lot of time together anymore. if you did, then everybody would freak out for the wrong reasons, and it would ruin your friendship.

so what if you had a few small feelings for him? no one gave a shit—you knew jake probably wouldn’t give a shit. to him, you were just another annoying survivor he was forced to teach. besides, you didn’t have time for that kind of thing.

man, were you wrong, though. he really, really wanted to be around you, but you already knew everything, so he didn’t know what to do to spend time with you. his way of initial bonding was sharing knowledge, but that had already been done, so…what now?

then came the one trial that changed everything.

it was normal at first. the killer, blight, was doing well, so you had to step up your game. one generator was completed and he had 4 hooks on three different people—you were the only one not hooked yet.

he was after you, and you were expertly dodging every rush and swing he threw your way. unfortunately, you accidentally ran to the generator that jake was working on, and things got a little complicated.

when the blight rushed at the wall, then at you, jake ran towards you while you ran towards him—you were both looking over your shoulders—and alas, bonk. you crashed into each other.

oh, no!! how terrible!! looks like jake fell on top of you :/ what an unfortunate situation to be in /s /s /s /s /s

wowwww near proximity ! you’d never been so close before and it was awkward but nice (?)

then you remembered there was a crazy drug addict or whatever over there and he was chasing you, and the moment was ruined. jake quickly rose and pulled you up with him, and you went in opposite directions, both nervous and wide-eyed now.

lol

after that, the trial went quite south. everybody was sacrificed. perhaps the loss could be partly attributed to you and jake avoiding each other like the plague. but who knows, right?

back at the campfire, you began feeling overwhelmed by all the weird stuff happening lately, so you excused yourself to the edge of the woods to have some quiet time to yourself. a few minutes later, jake came to check on you bc he is a fucking gentleman and yes i will die for the “stoic man who is actually caring and thoughtful” trope. fuck you

it’s slightly awkward at first, but then you start talking like normal and things feel a lot better. a little bit of the tension eases away, but not completely. what the fuck do you do with feelings like this?????

you simply composed yourself as best you could. it would have to do.

now that you felt a little more normal (lie), you trekked back to the campfire to wait for your next trials side-by-side. there was no one you felt more comfortable with or more respected by than jake. he appreciated you for your competency, and that was one of the best things you could ask for.

and to your surprise, jake actually took your hand and laced your fingers with his own. and it felt nice. never in your existence would you have thought he would be okay with displaying public affection, but you smiled up at him and gave his hand a light squeeze.

maybe the entity gave him drugs.

or he just liked you that much. either one would make sense.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

danny hated you. he really did.

you were so unbothered, so calm, so good at knowing what to do. it really pissed him off.

you got so much attention from the other survivors for your skill and that really pissed him off too. it’s not like you cared or wanted it or anything, but how dare they even touch you when you so clearly belonged to danny?

…who knows wtf that even means. so anyways-

when you realized how much time danny spent chasing you in trials when he should have been patrolling generators, you began to get suspicious. especially when he would take you to the hatch and then close it in your face, watching you die to the entity. he obviously had some kind of beef with you.

you were determined to find out what he had against you, so you began to tease him a bit in chases. your favorite and most frequent phrase was something like, "can't catch me? lil baby man? lil baby? lil baby man gonna cry?" you were really testing your luck with that one, and that's why you loved it.

once, you told him his fly was down, and he actually fell for it, making you nearly keel over in laughter. you got moried without even being hooked after that.

despite the horrors that frequented this place, you were never in a crisis about it. you simply learned what had to be done, and then you did it, much to the chagrin of danny. you had skipped the big "useless baby survivor" phase, and that one was his favorite :( he loved trials with new survivors because it was so easy and fun!

but alas, from the beginning, you were always on top of things, always slamming pallets onto his head or saving teammates with a flashlight.

oh, don't even get him started on your flashlight usage. you were the absolute worst to go against--every pallet stun, boom: danny's eyes fucking burned out. every time he picks up a survivor, boom: danny's eyes fucking burned out. you were a bitch with that item.

he finally began to get so fed up with your behavior that he decided you must be taught a lesson. somehow, countless mori and tunneling and camping incidents had not even managed to bother you. you literally did not care. but he had something different in mind this time.

the realm was haddonfield, of course. all of the killers despised this map, and for good reason--you ran danny around the entire neighborhood for three generators. did he have to chase you? no. but he needed to for himself.

he finally caught you in a dead zone, rejoicing to himself as you fell to the ground in defeat. "wow, that was a good chase," you mumbled under your breath, feeling accomplished. one of your best against danny, probably.

you were expecting him to pick you up, but instead he snatched the flashlight from your grasp and chucked it as far away as he could. and before you could protest, he pulled you up to stand again and yanked you towards himself, gripping your wrists so tightly you swore it left bruises.

"what's wrong...lil baby man?" you said with a pout, trying not to laugh. "is baby man angry?"

you were slightly scared if you were being honest, but you couldn't let him know that.

danny sighed. you really didn't know when to stop, did you?

"bitch," he spat, voice dangerously quiet. "cut that shit out."

"what shit?"

he squeezed your arms tighter, provoking an "okay, okay, i get it!" from you.

"do you?"

"sure. what's the worst you could possibly do to me anyways?" after those words left your mouth, you got a weird feeling that the killer was smiling behind his mask.

"listen, uhh, danny, is it?" you said, putting as much nonchalance into your voice as you could. "i just wanna know why you hate me so much. remember that time you closed the hatch in my face? the fuck was that for?"

he frowned at the use of his name but responded regardless, "you're a little bitch, and you deserved that."

you gasped dramatically, feigning offense. "ouch. that one hurt."

"i can make you hurt a lot more," he said darkly. you probably should have been scared, but you just really couldn't take him seriously.

so you laughed. it shouldn't have been funny, but it just was and now you couldn't stop. "you're just--you--i can't--" you wheezed, shaking from the laughter. "i'm sorry, it's really not funny."

danny didn't understand you. anybody else would have been sobbing if he so much as touched them, and here you were acting like it was a joke.

what could he do if you truly were not afraid of him?

perhaps it was time to let it go.

while his guard was down, suddenly you reached above his head and plucked his mask off, revealing his face and continuing your bouts of laughter at his shocked expression.

you threw the mask in the same direction as the flashlight, composing yourself and putting your hands on your hips. "you look pretty nice," you said, nodding.

wow. what the hell was danny supposed to do with you? perhaps the only completely unbothered, completely unserious survivor? he knew you were smart, and you knew what you were doing. he didn't even want to kill you anymore, you were just that fascinating.

that trial ended in you standing at the exit gate, your finger and your thumb in the shape of an L on your forehead. danny couldn’t care less at this point--he was done with your shit. but somehow he still liked you, and this definitely would not be the last time you saw him without his mask.

[charmspoint]

character ask game: go on boss, ramble about qifrey <3

Frappe you enable me too much hvjhvh the meme in question

favorite thing about them

Oh god what isn't my favorite thing about him. I really like how morally gray he is, what a complex person he is. Like i could legit see him as becoming a stumbling stone for Coco down the line and him having to choose between his own revenge and her is just really chefs kiss. I want him to be an obstacle she has to face. Also I like how he seems to be just a regular ass witch. Like this is maybe cuz I'm coming of from bnha with all might and jjk with gojo but it's nice that the mentor is not The Best Guy Ever but just like...here's Qifrey, he does water magic. Water magic isn't anything unusual, he's certently very skilled but doesn't seem to be any more so than any other witch, heck I'd say Olruggio is magically more impressive than him which you know makes sense cuz Olruggio is a creator by profession while Qifrey is a teacher. Like Qifrey WAS raised by the mage of education but that was purely coincidental and Qifrey doesn't really stick around the great hall or anywhere else other witches might be for us to see how that reputation might effect him. Also I love how he's such a fuckin hermit. You'd think he'd be the extrovert to Olruggio's introvert but it was his express idea to hole up in the middle of nowhere. He was like I'm builing my own House with my Husband and our Children and I'm not coming anywhere near another person again if I don't want to, what a king. This last part is an obvious exaggeration but it's fun to see just how much Qifrey is actually keeping away from others despite his :D!! nature.

least favorite thing about them

TALK TO YOUR FUCKING HUSBAND QIFREY. The fact that he sucks at communication so bad like SON BLS STOP TRYING TO DO EVERYTHING YOURSELF. This isn't a bad thing it's an important part of his character but I like everything about him this is just something that I like the least.

favorite line

"You want me to stay as professor Qifrey, is it? I'd also like that, if it were possible."

Just ;-; QIFREY he makes me so fuckin sad

brOTP

This man has no friends, he has one friend and he married him so he has no friends. Probably him and Alaira for the soul reason she's the only other witch he seems to talk to on friendly terms hjbjhhj.

OTP

Orufrey of course, married with kids uwu

nOTP

Uhhh with any of his students. Fortunately I didn't see any of that like I might have in another fandom but I heard...rumors...I hope I never see it.

random headcanon

Chronic mother hen disease, this isn't even a headcanon this is just canon, if this man sees a sad child he's pulling out adoption papers while Olruggio looks on tiredly in the background.

unpopular opinion

Idk if this is an unpopular opinion or not, but I hope Qifrey loses his eyesight. So much of his current arc is focused on his fear of losing it, on rushing to that deadline while he still feels he can do something. It's obvious that Qifrey thinks that once he loses his eyesight his life is over. He had already lost everything once and now he fears losing everything again which is why his actions are so rash. And so much of Coco's and Tartah's current arc is about how magic should be accessible to everyone so I really want Qifrey to lose his eyesight and then his family to help him realize he can still do magic without it, he can still be professor Qifrey without it. He hasn't lost his life just because he lost his eyes. Idk that's what I hope for his character.

song i associate with them

none jknjknj since i don't write for wha i usually don't think about it when im listening to songs

favorite picture of them

It's impossible to choose one so here's a compilation in no particular order

I love him a normal amount

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

for the writing requests, could I get some ZIT with the theme "Watcher" (the beings from Grians EVO series that everyone uses in fanon now)

oh boy it has been a long time since i watched evo asdfghjkl i hope i remembered stuff correctly

Requests are still open! Please read pinned post before requesting.

...

  Impulse is the first to discover it. While out chopping down some birch trees, he comes across an odd symbol set into the cliff. But what really catches his attention is the fact that the pattern is made of bedrock. He spends a few minutes inspecting it closely, trying to figure out how it could have gotten here, before he decides that he should tell someone about it. 

  And now, right here, is when Impulse makes a decision that he will forever look back on as the moment that changed everything. He will realise in the future that he should have gone to Xisuma first, should have shown the admin the bedrock symbol so that he can deal with it. But he doesn’t.

  He goes to his best friends, Zedaph and Tango. 

  Impulse will realise later that his second mistake is in not telling his friends exactly what the issue is straight away. Instead, he tells them he has to show them something weird and he takes them to the site.

  As soon as Zedaph lays eyes on the symbol, he freezes, his entire body starting to tremble. 

  By the time his friends notice, he has fainted. 

  “Zed?!” gasps Tango, as he and Impulse rush to his side.

  Thankfully, Zedaph wakes very quickly. Blinking, he presses a hand to his throbbing head, as Tango helps him sit up. “Oh gosh… I haven’t seen that symbol in centuries…”

  “What?” Impulse stares at his friend. “You know what this is?”

  Zedaph slowly nods. “It’s the symbol of the Watchers. Have you heard of them?”

  Impulse and Tango simultaneously shake their heads. 

  “They’re a race of beings millions of years old. Some legends say they were present at the creation of the universe as we know it. They have incredible cosmic power but generally they don’t like to intervene, hence their name: the Watchers. What they do is they observe, they watch, they wait. Eventually, they may start leaving these symbols around.” Zedaph indicates the pattern. “Like that one.”

  “What does it mean if a symbol appears?” Impulse asks, somewhat nervously. “Are they marking Hermitcraft for something?”

  “When they leave their symbol on a world, it usually means there’s someone or something of interest in it,” Zedaph responds. “Or...”

  In the ensuing pause, Tango and Impulse exchange a glance. “Or… what?” Tango says.

  Zedaph avoids the question. “We need to make sure we don’t go anywhere near that thing. The Watchers may seem placid but they can be angered, and when they are, their wrath is beyond explosive. They’ve already destroyed the former world of one of the Hermits here on the server.” 

  “What?!” his friends both yelp simultaneously. 

  “Who?” Tango demands.

  “It’s not my place to say. Just know that we have to make sure it never, ever happens again.”

  A long pause follows this. 

  Finally, Impulse speaks: “Earlier, you said there might be something or someone here to interest the Watchers, or… something else. What were you going to say?”

  Zedaph squeezes his eyes shut. “...or they’re warning another Watcher living here that they know where they are.”

  “Oh, Zed…” Tango’s face creases in a sad frown. “I’m so sorry…”

  “Zed, are you telling us you’re a Watcher?” Impulse asks quietly. 

  Zedaph takes a deep breath. “I’m not biologically a Watcher but I may as well be; I was found and adopted by them as a baby and they fed me more and more of their power as I grew up until I was practically one of them. Then some bad stuff happened and… well… REALLY long story short, I abandoned them and fled here. I thought they decided not to pursue me, but… maybe they just didn’t know where to find me all this time.”

  Zedaph looks so downtrodden that Tango reaches out to hug his best friend. “We won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

  To his surprise, Zedaph pushes him away. “No, you don’t understand. If the Watchers show up here to reclaim me, I have to go with them. I’ll have no other choice. If they don’t get what they want, they will destroy this world and kill everyone in it. I’ve already seen that happen to one world; I couldn’t handle it happening to you guys as well.” His voice cracks and he buries his face in his hands. “I can’t lose you. Either of you.” 

  Tango again tries to pull Zedaph into a hug, and this time, Zedaph lets him. Impulse joins him on his other side and they hold their friend close. 

  “I came here to make a fresh start but I didn’t expect to fall in love with Hermitcraft,” Zedaph whispers. “I didn’t expect to… to form such a strong bond with you two. If the Watchers return, I-I’ll lose you either way.”

  “We won’t let that happen,” Tango vows. “We’re Hermits, remember? Hermits can solve any problem that arises if they put their minds to it. We’ll find a way to save you from them, I promise.” 

  Zedaph sniffles. He really wishes he could believe that. 

  “C’mon, buddy,” Impulse says. “Let’s all go back to your base. We’ll consolidate all your knowledge on the Watchers and see if we can figure out an effective method of making sure they don’t come for you, or at least a way of stopping them if they do come.”

  “You can’t stop a race like the Watchers,” argues Zedaph.

  “How do you know if we don’t try?” Tango says. 

  “Because I AM a Watcher, Tango. I’ve tried figuring out a way to stop them thousands of times before.” 

  “But have you tried doing it with two extremely stubborn redstone geniuses who won’t take no for an answer?” Tango inquires.

  Zedaph blinks. “Well… no, but-.”

  “That settles it, then. C’mon.”

  Tango and Impulse both tug at Zedaph’s sleeves. Their determination imbues Zedaph with a tiny bit of hope. He’s never had anyone care about him this much before, so perhaps their insight will provide the last piece of the puzzle of how to escape the Watchers once and for all.

  So he lets his friends lead him away, but none of them notice what’s happening behind them. 

  The symbol is glowing purple.

[crash-hawk]

Crash, crash, burn, let it all burn, this hurricane’s chasing us all underground...

Since I recently re-released Three to read in its entirety on Tumblr, I thought I would do the same for the first chapter of the follow-up fic Hurricane: a series of short stories set in the Passerine-inspired Kaleidoscope AU, focusing on the intersections and parallels between the series’ Hermit cast and their DSMP neighbors.  Chapter 1 is a direct follow-up to Three, taking place literally hours later, so it’s recommended that you read that one first!

Hurricane is a work in progress, with three chapters completed so far.  The rest can be read on Archive of Our Own HERE.

(For a look at what’s going down in this AU’s version of Third Life, check out @lunarblazes‘ devastating Give Me Back My Heart, You Wingless Thing and @exactlymypoint‘s stellar To Stars and Void He Will Return.)

The morning after’s always a bitch.

crash, crash, burn

No matter how many times that you told me you wanted to leave

No matter how many breaths that you took, you still couldn’t breathe

No matter how many nights that you’d lie wide awake to the sound of the poison rain

Where did you go?  Where did you go?  Where did you go...?

- Thirty Seconds to Mars, “Hurricane”

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

A strange hush falls over the island in the hours just before dawn.   The moon sinks into the water, unnaturally bright against stars that seem pale and faded and  unreal, and seems to take all sound and life with it; the ocean is a vast expanse of smooth glass that barely seems to lap at the shore.  

The Queen of the Hunt notices, and it disturbs her.

She does not live with the others in the main village.  She makes her home in a vast cavern on the far side of the island, beneath a quaint red-roofed house that’s more decoy than domicile.  The house is for the young ones and the new ones, who don’t need to know what she truly is (although every once and again one will come seeking her specifically, usually one who’s seen her in the Starborn’s tournaments, and if they show promise and she has nothing better to do she will take them on.)

She does not live with the others, but she’s aware of the visitors who’d come to their shore the day before.  She knows them well, one of them most of all.  Her own dark mirror; sometimes her twin and sometimes a stranger, sometimes an ally and more often an enemy.  His presence here, in this place meant specifically to keep him out, infuriates her, because she knows it for what it is: both an implicit threat and a deliberate insult on the part of the one who’d brought him along.  The thought of marching into the village and demanding that the interlopers state their intent was tempting, the thought of demanding that they leave even more so.  But she and her shadow have always been flint and steel, and with each hour that passes the island feels more and more like dry kindling.  The Huntress tells herself that no matter what happens, she will not be the one to strike the spark.

She wanders along the northern shoreline, not knowing why, not knowing where she’s going or what she’s looking for.  It feels like she’s waiting for something, some coin to drop, some axe to fall.  

And then it does.

The land around her has grown sere and scrubby, gnarled oaks making way for the flat-crowned acacia trees local to the northwestern point of the island.  A huge mountain, ridged and buttressed like a castle, bulks to the sky, black against the dim, faded stars.  She can see lights glowing softly from the windows of the homes her friends have built there.

A scream suddenly bursts from one of the windows.

It shatters the night into a thousand fragments, echoing from stone and tree and water, freezing the Huntress down to the bone because she  recognizes  it, would know the voice anywhere.  That’s Etho screaming, screaming and screaming in terror and agony and something else, something that sounds dangerously close to madness--the Huntress has heard enough screams in her life to know.  

She’s running before she’s even aware of it, her bow materializing in her hand from thin air, as dawn crawls over the eastern horizon behind her in a silent white line.

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

Something’s wrong.

It pulses through Pearl’s mind in an insistent feedback loop, crowding out thought as they make their way back down the shore toward the village.  George rambles on at her side, the most he’s spoken since she can remember, the most he’s spoken in  millennia,  she thinks, ever since the old forests were a new thing too huge with potential for her to govern alone.  There are other siblings, of course, other gods of life and change and growth, but he is one of the youngest, and the most sensitive.  So she smiles and tries her best to listen as he talks and talks and talks, about his woods and his dreams and his nightmares and waking up choking on ash, about his animal friends and the valley he made bloom in honor of one that he lost, about the unlikely friendships she still doesn’t understand, treasure hunts and near misses and the universe saying I’m going to be the best thing that ever happened to you.

“Granted, they’re both idiots, Sapnap especially,” he says, smiling.  “But…”

“But they’re your idiots,” Pearl finishes with an answering smile.  She can’t help it, she’s all too familiar with the phenomenon.  And yet the maddening refrain continues:  something’s wrong.  Something’s wrong.  Something’s wrong.

To the east, dawn paints the sky in fragile seashell colors, washing out stars already strangely faint.  They’re close, now; Pearl can see the massive, irregular shadow of Scar’s ore pile and the dim violet glow from Grian’s observatory. There are few lights lit, and even though she knows that logically everyone’s probably still asleep, it still sits wrongly. Even at this distance, the village feels shuttered, empty, dead.

“It’s so quiet,” George murmurs.  Pearl turns to him, seeing anxiety in his eyes, in the way his arms wrap around himself.   He feels it too.

“Some of them should be up by now,” Pearl says absently.  “Bdubs at least, he’s staying at Impulse’s house this week and he’s always up and out with the sun, I don’t--”

“I think they’re all still there,” George interrupts, pointing down the beach, to where the the last embers of the campfire still glow dully in the early morning gloom.  “It looks like they all fell asleep there.”

Pearl looks, and fear washes over her like ice water.  

They’re arranged around the campfire in a ring, the way they gather almost every night if the weather permits.  Twenty-some people, it looks like, almost the entire village.  Some are still mostly upright, slumped against each other or against the logs of driftwood.  Others lie sprawled awkwardly in the sand or curled up tight against the wind.   Only one remains alert, prodding idly at the embers as they roast something on a stick.

Footsteps crunch in the sand behind them, making her jump, but she doesn’t turn around.  They don’t look like they’re sleeping.  Their poses are too awkward, too uncomfortable, as if they’d all been struck by the same bolt of lightning and simply lay as they fell.  They look--

“There you are,” complains the approaching voice, all smoke and grit.  “I’ve been looking for you all godsdamned night.”

“Sapnap--”

Pearl breaks into a run.

George shouts something after her, but she doesn’t hear it.  She runs for the campfire, her cloak and hood flying out behind her, heart pounding in her head and chest and throat.  

The one still awake looks up as she skids to a halt in the sand, smiling.  “Morning,” he greets. “Breakfast?  There’s fish enough for four.”

Pearl ignores him.  Up close, she can see that the younger ones do seem to be asleep, piled up on each other in awkward configurations and snoring quietly, but the others...the others…

“What have you done,” she gasps, before she’s even aware of what she means to say.

“What do you mean, what have I done,” Dream asks, blinking.  His voice and expression are the picture of bafflement, but his eyes are amused, glittering jade in the light of the rising sun.  “I was making breakfast.  They’re asleep.”

Impulse still sits next to Dream, slumped over the half-finished clock in his lap, head bowed. Beside him, Bdubs is face down in the sand.  She can’t tell if they’re breathing or not.  Across the campfire Scar lies curled on his side, arms crossed loosely in front of his face as if to ward off a blow.  And beside him--

“Grian!”

For a terrible, terrible moment, Pearl is certain that he’s dead.  He lies sprawled on his back, limbs bent awkwardly, boneless and loose as if he’d fallen out of the sky.  His wings are invisible, still cloaked, and that’s  wrong, Grian can’t hide his wings unless he’s conscious enough to think about it--

She drops to her knees beside him, laying one hand on his chest, the other cupping his cheek.  She feels him draw in a breath and sobs, vision blurring with relief.  So slow, though, a full minute going by before he draws another, and he’s so cold. Grian isn’t supposed to be cold.  Grian is quicksilver and solar flares and lightning in a bottle, rambling speech and manic laughter and too-warm hugs.  His fire is gone, his wings are gone.  Grian is gone.  What lies on the beach beneath her hands is nothing more than a placeholder.  A shell.  And she knows as certain as moonrise that if she were to go to the others, to lay her hands on their hearts, she would feel the same.

“What have you done?!” she repeats, pale eyes returning to Dream’s.  

Dream simply looks back at her, impassive, the unnerving smile still on his face. “Nothing they didn’t ask for.”

“They would never ask for this,” she hisses, standing slowly.  She can feel rage beginning to gather in her core, flowing down into her limbs like white fire.  

“Dream?” she hears George ask from behind her, quick footsteps shuffling through the sand.  “What happened?”

For a heartbeat, she sees the Green God’s expression flicker, a split second of something that might have been surprise or nerves or fear.   She doesn’t know, and doesn’t care.  Her rage is an incandescent, living thing, as though she’d swallowed a piece of the sun.

“I told her,” he says.  “They’re  asleep. Dreaming. They asked for a story, and I told one.  I might’ve...gotten a bit carried away, but they haven’t been harmed, George.  At all.  They’ll wake soon enough--”

“They are not asleep!” Pearl cries, and suddenly there’s a spear in her hand, the curved head glittering silver in the misty sunlight.  “Do you take me for an idiot? You’ve left their bodies here scattered like so many empty seashells, thinking I couldn’t tell the difference.  They’re not here!  What have you done to them, you lying bastard?”

In the space between heartbeats a white-cloaked shadow suddenly appears at her side, obsidian blade leveled inches from her neck.  “Put it down,” the War God snarls.  “Now.”

“No,” she says, not even bothering to look at him.  

“You’d break guest right?” Dream asks, still smiling congenially, stepping forward so Pearl’s spearhead rests just below his collarbone. “Your little commune holds that sacred, doesn’t it?  You’d run me through in the sight of the sun, in front of your ‘brother’?  Well, go on, then.  I’m right here.  I won’t even dodge.  Your place, your rule.”

“Pearl, Sapnap, stop,” she hears George cry, dismayed.  “Dream, what the hell’s gotten into you??”

Pearl’s hands tighten around the polished ashwood haft of the spear.  The rage in her is burning agony.  And yet she can’t move.

The Green God smiles, his eyes the color of acid and chlorine and radiation.  “I know you,” he whispers. “I’ve known you since you were formed.  You’re not cut out for this role. You don’t have it in you.”

There’s a sudden ‘twang’ and a puff of sand as an arrow strikes deeply into the beach a bare millimeter from Dream’s ankle. Another grazes Sapnap’s cheekbone a second later, drawing a thin line of blood.

“You’re no guests of mine,” a woman’s voice calls from a point above and behind them. “And I do.”

The War God’s sword jerks away from her neck, and Pearl’s paralysis breaks. She whirls, her spear falling from shaking, nerveless fingers, to see False, Lady of War, Queen of the Hunt, standing atop a wave-beaten spar of rock, longbow nocked and drawn.  Nor is she alone: beside her stand Iskall of the Mountains, his stone sword carved with runes and shimmering with enchantment, and Wels, Guardian of the Gates of Hell, in full dark armor and wielding a battleaxe the color of smoke.

“You,” Sapnap spits, black eyes narrowed and full of venom.

“Me,” False agrees.  

“What the hell,” Iskall thunders, fire glinting in his eye, “did you do to Etho.”

Dream rolls his eyes.  “Stars, Void, and In-Between, how many of you are there?”

“More than you’d believe,” Wels answers.  “This is our place.  Our home.  And I think it’s high time you returned to yours.”

“You’ve outstayed your welcome,” the Huntress states flatly, her normally blue eyes as black as Sapnap’s as they drill into Dream.  “I suggest that you and both of your friends get in your boat and leave.  Right now.”

“Mm,” Dream looks up at the sky for a moment, as if thinking.  “And if I don’t care to leave just yet?  I never got to read the ending to that story I was telling last night, and your student body was so excited to hear it.”  He glances over at the sleeping apprentices, and Pearl feels a stomach-clenching rush of fear and revulsion at the implicit threat.   “Besides.  You know you can’t kill me.  You know it better than probably anyone else here.”

False laughs.

Dream’s forehead furrows, and Pearl is gratified to see that awful smile slip just a notch.  “Care to share the punchline?”

“Oh, that’s true enough,” False admits.  “You’re right, it won’t be my arrow that brings you down, though I must admit I’d greatly enjoy the trying.  It’s just funny to me, how confident you are, considering where you stand.”  She smiles, a tight, icy little smile that makes Pearl shiver in spite of herself, as she glances back at the village.

No, Pearl realizes, not at the village: at the rickety, towering sculpture in the center of it...and the yawning sinkhole beneath.

Dream’s smile falls off of his face so quickly Pearl can almost hear it thump into the sand.  George stands beside him, looking confused and utterly miserable, hands twisting together.  Pearl hates Dream almost as much for putting that expression back on his face as she does for the motionless bodies at her feet.

“What in the hell are you talking about,” Sapnap snarls, scowling in confusion.  

“Shall I call him,  Dream?” False continues softly, still smiling.  “How about it? We’ve all got time, after all, while we wait for our friends to wake.  I’m sure he’d be very interested in your stories.  He’s a much more courteous guest than you are.”

“He won’t come,” Dream protests, but he doesn’t sound so confident anymore. “He’s busy, and lazy, and thousands of leagues away besides.   He’s got a new playmate, and they’re enjoying themselves too much with their little empire down in the Southern snows to bother with you.” The smile returns to Dream’s face as if it never left, but there’s no mistaking the undercurrent of fear in his voice, the obvious way he’s trying to convince himself of what he’s saying.  “And why should he answer to you at all, hiding away with your own little playmates on your nowhere island?  You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” the Huntress asks, dark eyes glittering.

A tense silence settles over the beach.  No one moves.  Even the waves seem to hold their breath, waiting to see which way the scales will dip.

“Why?” Pearl finally asks, her voice breaking.  “What did we ever do to you?”

“Like I told you, they’ll be awake soon,” Dream says with a shrug.  “Ask them.”

“Leave,” False reiterates, her smile gone, her voice cold.  “All three of you.  And don’t come back.”

“Very well, as my Queen commands,” Dream answers, sketching a mocking bow.   “George, Sapnap, let’s go.”  He turns to Pearl with a smile, green fire dancing in his eyes.  "Until next time, my dear." And with that, he walks away, moving off towards the docks.

Pearl recoils, skin crawling with loathing and a creeping, nameless dread. “George, wait,” she entreats, sorrow and desperation thick in her voice.  “You don’t have to go with them.”

George looks back and forth, from her, to False and Wels and Iskall with their weapons drawn, to his two friends, and then back to Pearl.  “They’re my friends,” he murmurs helplessly.  

He turns, walking off down the beach after Dream.  A sob escapes Pearl’s throat.  

Of the three of them, Sapnap lingers the longest, staring up at the three on the rocks with his sword still drawn.  

“He’ll betray you, you know,” False says quietly.

“Stop talking about things you haven’t the least idea about,” Sapnap grits.

“He will, though.  He’ll betray you the way the scorpion betrays the frog in the old tales, because it’s his nature.  And because you have something he doesn’t, a capacity he doesn’t understand and never will, no matter how badly he wants it.  I know, because you and I are the same.  You’ve already begun to discover that capacity, as bumbling and resistant and stupid as you are.  When you finally figure out the rest, he won’t be able to stand it.  He’ll turn on you, and he’ll hurt you.”

“Whatever you say,” he mutters dismissively, but he sounds unsure of himself.  At last, he sheaths his sword, stalking off after the others.  Pearl wonders if either of them will remember this incident two days from now, if they'll be allowed to remember it.

When they’re finally gone, their boat nothing more than a hazy speck on the water, Pearl collapses to the sand.  She pulls Grian into her lap and holds him, not letting go even as Impulse comes to with a strangled scream, clutching at his abdomen and hurling the half-finished clock into the waves with a cry; as Bdubs scrambles wild-eyed to the water after it, his legs shaking like those of a newborn colt; as Scar begins to cough and gasp and struggle to fill lungs that don’t seem to remember how to breathe; as the apprentices stir, looking around with dazed and uncomprehending eyes.

It’s only when Grian finally wakes, silent and gasping and threatening to shake himself to pieces in her arms, his pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks, that Pearl finally, finally allows herself to cry.

[mcytrabbithole]

The Crash (Prologue Pt.1)

The beginning of a multi-chapter fic that I’m writing! This involves members of Hermitcraft and the Dream SMP and the chaos that follows when they end up thrown into a new situation together!

I will put all my notes about each chapter up here along with any warnings that I feel the need to write up here. 

Warning: Temporary blindness, our Hermits being in some pain

Word Count: 1802

It started out like any other day on the Hermitcraft server. People were building, playing Decked Out, working on gathering more mycelium for the resistance, just enjoying themselves. Well...most of them were enjoying themselves

Xisuma was currently making his way through the shopping district, walking around, trying to figure out what in the name of the Nether was making everything feel so...off. He had checked the coding of the server about five times, nothing was miscoded or anything like that. Though Xisuma could feel that something was wrong, being an admin made him more connected to the server than anyone else on the server. It was like he could feel the change, but couldn’t figure out where it was.

He hadn’t planned on talking to anyone about it, hoping that he’d be able to resolve it on his own, but he sees a message pop up on the chat through his helmet. 

Grian has experienced kinetic energy

rendog: You okay?

Grian: I wasn’t even flying??? I was just standing around. I don’t know what just happened 

Xisuma frowned as he looked at the messages. That meant something was wrong with the server. He uses his helmet to look at what had happened to Grian and grumbled a bit, that was definitely not supposed to happen. Grian had just been working on sorting through some chests so he could prepare stuff for The Barge and then boom, dead. 

Xisuma: That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ll see if I can figure out what caused it. 

Xisuma finds himself a place to sit down, sitting down on the little porch of the Stat Poker game building as he begins to work his way through the code for what felt like the millionth time. As he looked through it, he swears he sees something out of the corner of his eye, but he chalks it up to just being stressed out from trying to figure out what was causing the problem. 

After a while of scrolling through the code and rewatching the video of Grian’s mystery death, he hears some rockets go off and then the sound of someone landing in front of him. Xisuma moves the chat to the side and sees that Keralis is the one in front of him, wearing his construction outfit and seeming like he was looking for something. 

Though once Keralis sees Xisuma, he grins,” Shiswam! Just the bee that I wanted to see!” Xisuma wasn’t wearing his bee outfit, but he appreciated the pun none the less. “Hey Keralis, what’s up?” Xisuma figured that Keralis coming to find him could mean any number of things. Though he had a feeling that this was about a glitch or something similar. 

“I seem to have ran into a problem at my base and was wondering if maybe you could come help me? I can’t figure out what’s causing it.” Keralis had been trying for over two hours to get this sorter at his base working, he had double checked and yet it still wasn’t working right. “What seems to be the problem?” Xisuma asks this, already pulling up what he could about  Keralis’ base. “I’ve been working on a sorter and I know I’ve got the redstone right, but no matter what I do, it won’t sort.” Keralis may or may not have thrown his construction hat a view times while he was trying to work on it. 

“Do you think it might be a weird piston?” Xisuma asks this as he looks over it, searching through until he found the sorter in question. Everything looked like it was right, the code looked right, the sorter in general looked right. He frowns as he looks it over,” This is weird...everything looks right, even the code looks right...and it just won’t sort?” One is an accident, twice is a coincidence. If one more weird thing happens, then he’ll know that this isn’t just a weird server day. 

As if the universe was listening to Xisuma’s thoughts, a wave of pain shot through him, like he had been stabbed with a sword that had been enchanted to the nether and back. It was only pain in his head, but he found himself grasping onto his helmet for dear life. He hadn’t been in pain like this in a long time. “Shiswam, is something wrong?” Keralis noticed that pain right away, Xisuma never grabbed onto his helmet like that unless he was getting one of the migraines that he rarely got. Those migraines only ever came around on the days where something had gone really wrong and he had spent nether knows how long messing with the code to get it fixed. 

“M-my head.” Xisuma manages to speak, keeping his eyes shut. This was somehow worse than every one of those god awful migraines combined. “Is it one of your migraines? Do you need to get the helmet off?” Keralis takes a careful step forward, not wanting to get too close to his friend incase he needed space. Xisuma shakes his head, he wasn’t taking his helmet off unless he had to. “I just need to let it pass.” Xisuma takes a deep breath, hoping that it would stop. 

And it did stop...but when it did, he opened his eyes...and there was nothing there, it was void, endless nothing, a black empty void. For the first time since he was a child, Xisuma felt nothing but pure fear. “Keralis?” He asks this, his voice shaking like a leaf. “I’m right here, Shiswam.” Keralis’ voice was right in front of him, speaking softly. “I-I can’t see.” Xisuma had known Keralis for long enough that he allowed himself to let the fear show a bit more than what he would've normally shown. “It’ll be alright, Shiswam, I’m sure it’s just the server throwing a bit of a fit.” Keralis was trying to keep calm, but the worry he felt for his friend was worry that made his heart hurt. 

The blindness didn’t stop, but what happened soon after was further proof that things were going very wrong. Keralis had taken a seat next to Xisuma, trying to help him ground himself and not getting lost to the panic he felt...when Keralis got the hit of pain just like Xisuma had earlier. Little did the two know, that at that moment, all across the server, hermits were getting flashes of pain like none of them had felt before, none of them got it as bad as Xisuma did, but it still hurt like all hell. 

Keralis had sucked in a sharp breath, gripping onto the porch for dear life. This wasn’t good. If this was anywhere near the pain that Xisuma had felt, then Xisuma handled it like a champ. “Keralis? What’s wrong?” Xisuma heard that breath, that wasn’t a good sign. He couldn’t see the code, he couldn’t see anything, he hated this so much. “My head.” Keralis says this as he takes his construction helmet off yet again, holding it in his hands and just squeezing it that way he wouldn’t be pulling at his hair.

“It’s happening to you too?” Xisuma hated this. He felt helpless, like he couldn’t do anything to help his friend. “It should pass, give it a few minutes...let’s just hope it doesn’t blind you like it did me.” Xisuma manages to find Keralis’ shoulder and give it a squeeze, hoping that it would stop faster for Keralis than it stopped for him. Keralis closed his eyes, hoping that if he closed  them then it might stop a bit faster.

As they waited for Keralis’ pain to vanish, all around the server, people found themselves in similar positions. False had been in the Nether, helping Stress with setting up her path to the Nether Hub, when the pain had hit them both and sent them both crashing to the floor, hitting some minecarts in the process. Wels had been nearby, doing some work on his portal when he had heard the loud crash of the minecarts, so he decided to go check and see what caused it. 

Wels had seen the girls on the ground and gone running to them, hoping that he might be able to help, but only for the pain to hit him at that very moment...and sending him crashing into a minecart head first. Not his best moment, but at least he had his helmet to protect him. The sound of him crashing into the minecart didn’t help the pain in their heads, if anything it made everything all the worse, especially for Wels since his helmet hit the cart and the cart practically slammed the helmet back at his head, which hurt a lot more than 

In a similar turn of events, Grian, Impulse, and Etho were all in the Mycelium Resistance base, working away on actually getting the base looking like a proper base. The other resistance members were out doing things like getting materials, checking their shops, that sort of a thing. 

First it was Impulse, who was sorting shulkers at the new meeting table, who just grabbed the nearest chair and sat down cause he knees nearly gave out from the pain. Then it was Etho, who had been writing down the amount of mycelium that they had gathered up and doing a tiny bit of math as he tried to figure out how many mycelium they could make in an hour. He had been standing by the mycelium generator, when he felt the pain hit him, causing him to drop his book as he leaned against the wall to try and keep himself steady. Finally, it was Grian, who was working on the walls of the base. He had seen Etho and Impulse sit down and had been a bit confused, then the wave hit him and he almost fainted from the pain as he sat down against the stone wall. All the three could do was look at one another, unable to speak from the pain. 

The pain spread through the server like wildfire...and soon enough the pain had gripped onto every member of the server. As people all around the server began to hit the ground, gasping for breath as they tried to figure out what was happening, they felt the change in the air, felt the change in what felt like the very core of their codes. As they all shut their eyes, hoping that the pain would stop, they felt it, things had just changed, yet they couldn’t seem to open their eyes to see what had happened. 

Suddenly, the pain stopped, and their eyes shot open. What they saw was that they were all now in an open field in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere...and they weren’t the only ones there. 

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 56- Let’s Get Down to Business

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

Totally inspired by Mulan, both Red and my favorite disney princess! All the minesonas are together, the hermits are here, and the battlefield is ready! Just one last bit of red angst, brought to you by JoeHills

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland​

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Mentioned: Pierre belongs to @cabbagesenpai​ , Star belongs to @thatonewannabedragon​ , Bre belongs to @mintyhotchocolate​ . (If there are any others i missed let me know! Credit where credit’s due!)

Morning sunlight rises over the tents and small cabins within the battlefield. Not much after the sun has fully appeared over the horizon, black wings jet across the camp- followed by a second smaller pair of wings. 

Red groans, wishing Avon had never found that damned bell she has. “Wake up everyone! We need to get as much training in, we never know when the hellspawns will arrive!” 

“I was the best fighter ever seen in any world, I don’t need training.” Etho groans, face dragging along the ground as Avon pulls him by the feet out of his tent. 

“Key word ‘was’. Let’s see if that still stands.” Avon chuckles, tossing his feet to the ground and joining Ecto on the dunes. The two clasp hands, pulling each other into a half hug. The warriors share a moment of silent conversation in their eyes, enemies turned friends. And now friends turned generals of a small army. 

“A stick? That’s a pretty dinky weapon, man.” Mumbo looks at the staff Ecto hands him. 

“Ugh, again with the weird english words.” Iskall hisses, thwapping his friend in the ankles. Beside the other two architechs, Grian lets out a giggle at Mumbo’s pain. 

“I don’t trust giving any of you a weapon in our world.” Ecto mumbles, rolling her eyes and handing off a staff to Ren. 

“Just like a lightsaber. Thanks dude!” Ren gives her a wink, spinning his staff and planting it into the sand. 

Avon pulls off her cloak, draping it over a cactus and getting a feel for her staff. It’s lighter than her trident, but it reminds her of her earlier days. Jessie flits off the warming desert sand, wrapping around her neck and curling her tail around her bicep. “Avon, I don’t think you made enough sticks for everyone. I don’t have one.” 

Ecto glances to the other wanderer, and both bite their lips. Avon avoids Red’s anxious gaze, the way he bounces on his feet to get to training. She looks anywhere else, fearful eyes meeting with Pierre, flitting to Star, before staring down Impulse. “Red… Ecto and I talked it over, and we aren’t sure you’re ready for the rage of war.” 

“Wha-what do you mean?” The entire desert gets quiet, everyone staring at the three. Making it even worse. “But I can fight! You saw it in the mansion, in the nether! I want to help you all!” 

“Red, we don’t want you to get hurt.” Ecto whispers. “This is more than just a woodland mansion, or even our botched infiltration to the nether. This is war.” 

“This is for the best, Red.” Avon pulls Jessie off her shoulder, plopping the dragonet into Red’s open arms. “Just… try to stay out of trouble. Stay safe, okay?” 

Avon and Ecto turn away, yelling for the hermits and other fighters to begin sparring. To get back to business. Red backs away, sniffling as she tries to keep her tears from catching the sunlight. Is she really that useless? That her own best friends would rather she stay out of their way? Stay out of trouble? Jessie chirps, purple tongue lapping at Red’s warm tears. 

He turns away, feet slipping as he runs across the sand. Away from the army, into the campground, tripping over stakes and vines. He collapses into a pit of water, Jessie floundering to the surface as Red sinks lower. Feeling warm tears sting and mix with the water. Salt against fresh. 

Red thought he was a part of the team. A part of this all. That he wasn’t useless to them, to anyone anymore. He could be a friend, a part of this battle. To get justice, make the nether pay for Mama Gummi’s death. But he’s been sidelined. Too weak, too useless. He was an idiot to think that he was anything but that. He should just stay out of trouble. Always out of trouble- that’s all that caused this anyways. 

He’s not sure how long he’s underwater, curled in a tiny fish ball. Jessie had crawled out, but he could see her curled up in the sun. Laying in the grass just above him. Even Jessie will eventually be something more. More than just a baby. She’ll grow into a massive dragon, with firebreathing and massive claws and wings. She’ll be useful. Red flinches when a hand taps his shoulder, peeking from over his shoulder. 

A hermit has his head shoved underwater, glasses floating away from the bridge of his nose. His hand opens, inviting for Red to take it. And for some reason, Red does. Something about his face, his calm smile and jovial eyes eases Red from his wallowing.

“You’ve got quite the lung capacity to stay under there.” The hermit hauls Red out of the water, plopping her onto the grass beside Jessie. 

“I can breathe underwater. It’s not that incredible.” Red mumbles, not willing to meet his eyes. 

“I dunno, that’s pretty sweet in my mind. I’m Joe Hills. My friends just call me Joe.” He offers a hand, his other reaching out and petting Jessie. The dragon chirps, pressing into his palm like a kitten. 

“Red. Why aren’t you training with the others?” Joe stands up, and Red follows him. He isn’t sure why, but Joe just exudes a feeling of comfort, easy and friendly. Standing near Joe alone makes Red’s spirits rise.

“I’m not really the kind of person to fight with weapons. I’m more of a ‘pen is mightier than the sword’ kind of guy. What better way to beat your enemies into submission than with a damning remark on their ill actions towards the safekeeping and prosperous balance that nature provides us?” Joe summits a rise in the plain, plopping down on the grass. Red sits down beside him.

“I think I understood about half of those words, Joe.” The two look out across the battlefield. The training has split off. Some remain with Avon, working on strategy and further practice with fighting. Others have spread across the field, Ecto traveling between groups as they build up traps. Bre works with Stress, setting up potion dispensers. Pierre and Etho play with fire charges.

“Hey Impulse can you help me test this redstone trap?” Tango waves his friend over to the other side of the forest. Impulse takes off from the campground below where Red and Joe sit, watching the work. 

Red isn’t really keen on this whole fighting thing, but she understands that all attempts to talk have faltered. But she asked for the traps to be survivable. Maybe if the hellspawns see that a battle will cause harm, they’ll stop. It’s her hope, at least. But just another thing he can’t do right. He can’t even kill right. She sits, watching Tango explain the setup to Impulse. Tango is covered with redstone, the same color as his red eyes. Impulse was working with water, so he’s a little cleaner. Both laugh, and a glint of something metal appears in Impulse’s hand. 

Red squints to see what it is, but Impulse disappears from view. The ground beneath him has dropped away, and black vapors escape the pit. His head only reappears as he jumps around within the trap. “Is that…?” 

“Wither roses. Quite a poetic flower, I must say. So beautiful and delicate. Yet so...deadly.” Joe hardly looks up from his notes on the field. Red can’t take his eyes off of Impulse. His veins turn black as the wither roses deliver the sickness, and he grabs onto a ladder that was set above the trap, pale hands shaking as he climbs out. He still clutches whatever’s in his hand. 

“He looks like he’s not going to make it!” Red stands, realizing that Impulse is covered in wounds. The wither races across his body, penetrating into his heart and lungs. And the entire time, Tango can hardly breathe. Not from fear. Tango is laughing so loud Red can hear it from the hill he’s atop. Impulse’s writhing stops, but Tango’s cackles don’t. Horror etches across Red’s face as he realizes what’s happened. What kind of sick friend laughs as their friend perishes from wither sickness? Why would Tango not help him? 

A loud crack echoes from the forest, forcing Red to cover his ears and cringe. Joe doesn’t even flinch, used to the crackling noise. He glances over his glasses, seeing the horror on Red’s face be replaced by confusion. 

Impulse is standing up, brushing wither vapors off his shorts and playfully nudging Tango. Tango’s now on the ground, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. Red wipes her eyes, blinking away the tears as if that was causing her to see things. “What happened? How is he alive?” 

“We’re all carrying totems of Undying. Once Xisuma warned us that there’s no respawn in your world, we all keep them around.” Joe pushes his glasses up his nose. “Do you not know what a totem of undying is?” 

Red shakes his head, and looks back at the pair. Impulse and Tango are looking at the trap that just killed the former, smiling quite proudly at the redstone work. He can see a glint of gold, covering Impulse’s cheek where a thorn had scratched him. The trap is deadly, but it’s possible to escape. Impulse closes it up, so no one else falls in for now. “What is a totem of undying?” 

“You’ve been carrying one around the whole time.” Joe points the feather end of his quill to Red’s backpack. Pointing at the golden statue, haphazardly tied onto the straps like a knick knack. Red sits down, plucking Fred off his string. Running his fingers across the smooth gold, ringing the emerald eyes. “When the holder’s heart stops beating, their soul perishing, it activates the totem. It breaks apart, and the magic instilled in the metal brings them back from death, gold melting into their wounds and healing them. It’s quite a beautiful sight to see up close.” 

Red’s lips form a thin line. Scar gave him this. Why did Scar think he’d need this, or was it a precautionary measure? The idea of having to use such a tool scares Red. But now, he just wants to keep it with him at all times. Red tucks the totem into the pocket of his vest. Just in case. “I’m not going to die. I’m not going to use this. I’m not useless.” 

“You should prove that to your friends. Look across this battlefield, little fish. What’s something we’re missing?” Joe lays out his journal, showing the map of the field. 

Reds eyes look around, noting the traps and offensive moves. His mind remembers something that Blu said, long ago. When they first met the hellspawn. “I’m the most dangerous. But why?” 

He watches a drop of water fall from his hair, quickly drying in the sun. The nether is the realm of fire. The hellspawns are made of fire, of lava and magma. Red remembers the way Blu recoiled from the blast of water that night. The steam and crackling of Endo when he washed over her with a wave. “Water. I can stop them with water! I can defend us all...with water!” 

Joe looks up, grinning as he gazes over his glasses. “And you can do it in a less deadly way than any of their blades of blasts can. You aren’t useless, and I don’t think your friends feel that way either. You just haven’t embraced the strongest side of you.” He nods to where Ecto and Avon are training together, using fire charges to simulate hellfire. 

“Thank you, Mr. Joe Hills!” Red leaps from the hill, running down and through the campground. “I won’t forget this!” 

Red feels the wind brush through his hair, feet pounding across the ground. As joyous and determined as he ever felt. His emotions take over, and soon he’s no longer running. He’s swimming, water pulsing across the grass with him. Easing him over the stakes that would trip him, the pits that would cause him to stumble. 

Crossing the battlefield, he raises ice walls, defending the hills and mounds that archers and fighters plan to make their stand upon. Moving water creates a trench, a moat around the campground, protecting them from all sides. Safe from attacks by land from the nether. Red hasn’t felt this much power, this much energy in his whole life. 

And he nears Ecto and Avon, struggling to defeat one another and avoid the hellfire surrounding them. Always dueling, equal matches for one another. Ecto shoves Avon backwards, and she narrowly avoids falling into fire by spreading her wings and flying. Avon tosses a fire charge, igniting the grass around Ecto. Trapping her. “You’ve been caught by the nether Ecto! Again!” 

Red lets out a holler, the water building up into a wave. The crest of the wave, and Red, comes crashing into the battle. Hellfire extinguishes into sputtering smoke, and both of the wanderers are swept off their feet. Red sees both of them look at her, and she snaps her fingers. “I won’t stay out of trouble. I am the eye of the storm. I am the trouble!” 

Dual whips of water lash out. Both Ecto and Avon narrowly avoid the strike, Avon blocking hers and Ecto dodging to the side. Both are shocked, glancing at one another before looking at Red. The three wanderers, the three friends, sharing a silent conversation without a word being spoken. Seeing the strength each has. The strength that makes them a team, that makes them friends. 

Red begins to laugh, followed by Ecto. And finally, a giggle bubbles free of Avon. Fire burns bright in all their eyes, and Avon launches her trident at Red. He easily blocks the attack, and deflects it towards Ecto. 

The wanderers duel, all three together. Playing like children, laughter ringing across the battlefield. No matter what happens, what the end of this war gives, they’re still together. They’re friends. Allies. 

Wanderers.

[queer-acacia-archive]

Fire, Fear, and Fight

Summary: The knight of hell has time to reflect. Memories return and plans arise to fight back.

Words: 1650

Characters: Helsknight, Evil Xisuma, BadTimesWithScar

Tags: n/a

Helsknight could feel the Nether around him begin to change. Strange trees were beginning to grow, colored in a strange pink and blue. They were entangled with odd vines, and they seemed to give off a small amount of light that put him on edge, though he didn’t know why. The Pigmen were now more pig-like, their faces sprouting tusks and growing long ears. They spoke in strange grunts and snorts that only they could understand. The only word he could slightly make out was “Piglin,” so that’s what he began to call them. The fire that usually consumed the world now glowed blue when it hit soul sand, which itself had started to spread miles and miles through the Nether, creating valleys that were a pain to trudge through. When he breathed, the air felt heavy, and he found it more useful to cover his mouth with a scrap of cloth than risk getting whatever was in the air in his lungs. 

He looked out over the horizon, where a fortress had been built, seemingly overnight, by the Piglins. It was made out of a gray material that looked like cobblestone, but was much heavier and had a different texture. He kept his sword in his hand, just in case some strange creature tried to jump him; he had found that being defenseless when being around the Piglin’s horrible beasts was not a very good idea.

The place he had known for so long was beginning to morph and change around him, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

He closed his eyes, gripping tightly at the hilt of his iron sword. The sword had been a gift from his friend. He could still remember the two of them running through the barren wasteland of the Nether, scrounging around for any food they could find and digging through the loot of the many Nether fortresses that littered the landscape every so often. 

He couldn’t remember when the Nether portal appeared, or how they found it. Ex decided to test it out, and when Hels tried to go in after him, he found that he couldn’t. Ex was gone for what felt like months, and when he came back, Hels was subjected to him babbling on about someone not liking his gifts, and about there being a doppelganger to him that wore green— Hels had to console him for some time after that, and even managed to convince BadTimes to help him out. 

He began to leave every now and again, and would come back telling the two about his adventures in the Overworld and the many ways he was messing with his double, who they discovered was named Xisuma. One time he came back in pink clothing, going on about a “Worm Man” that he thought was really cool because he was a superhero and wanted to be just like him. He even brought back a few interesting characters: a robot he called “NPC Grian” who he had found in a storage room, and a man with gray skin and a ponytail dressed in black robes who had separated from another Hermit after he’d been revived after death. Hels didn’t mind the company— rather, he enjoyed the company the two brought. NPCG always talked about making rustic houses, and Grim was always talking about the fragile mortality of humanity, but they were fun to be around nonetheless. 

One day, Ex went through the portal.

And he never came back through. 

Hels tried to go through the portal again, but he would only step through the purple fog without going anywhere. He only realized that Ex was truly gone when the portal one day mysteriously disappeared. He sat down where the portal was for days, taking naps every so often and eating the food that the others would bring out to him. Nothing ever changed. The portal never reappeared. He had to accept that Ex truly was gone. 

It had been months when the second portal appeared. Hels had been out exploring the strange forest that had seemingly appeared overnight when he came across a decimated portal that suddenly lit up in that oh-so familiar purple. He stepped closer, feeling like the portal was somehow… calling him. He drew his sword as he stepped through. 

The sudden sunlight blinded him, so he squinted, trying to let his eyes adjust. The sky above him was a bright blue, a glowing orb above his head. Nearby, a house stood, built with a yellow-ish material. He knew exactly where he was. The Overworld. 

He heard footsteps nearby, and he quickly ran for cover behind a small tree. The figure that entered his vision looked like him, but with blue eyes instead of red, blond hair instead of brown, and unstained iron armor unlike his own that was covered in soot that refused to come out no matter how hard he scrubbed. It had to be his doppleganger, he just knew it. 

Then the anger began to settle in. He was one of them. Those stupid Hermits that pulled his best friend out of his arms without a second thought. The very notion of the idea made his insides burn with a fire he had never felt before. He had to make them pay. He didn’t care who he hurt. He would make them all pay for what they did. 

Hels shifted, and the sudden pain that spiked up near his shoulder was enough to bring him back to reality. The fight hadn’t gone as planned, and he was forced to retreat back to the Nether. It had taken him time for him to find BadTimes and listen to his scolding as he bandaged Hels’s battle wounds. NPC had asked him if he saw any rustic houses while he was out. Grim had stayed silent, instead eyeing the blue blood that stained the knight’s armor before leaving for his room. 

Hels turned his head when he heard footprints approaching him, his grip at his sword tightening in case he needed to prepare for a fight; his grip loosened again when he realized it was only BadTimes. The older man stopped next to Hels, watching the particles from the ceiling float down the ground. Neither of them spoke for the time being, just letting the comfortable silence sit between them. 

“Those piglins sure do enjoy the soot, don’t they?” BadTimes commented, breaking the silence between them. Hels noticed a smaller piglin that was sitting in a pile of soot and playing in it like a child playing in the sand. “Almost like they were born from the fire. Odd, isn’t it? So much can change in such little time.”

Hels nodded, his armor clanking a little with his movement. “Felt like it happened overnight, honestly. Those forests, and the soul sand valleys, and these bastions… it’s weird. Didn’t there used to just be netherrack here?”

BadTimes nodded, turning his head to look at Hels. His bad eye stayed dormant, while his good eye stared thoughtfully at Hels’s expression. “You might need a better sword if you go back, you know. Iron doesn’t do much against diamond.”

Hels glanced over to BadTimes, pursing his lips together. “Where would I—”

“Ex wanted me to give you this,” BadTimes said, holding out his usually free hand to Hels. His hand gripped a sword made out of pure diamond, the blue glow casting a strange light against the red under their feet. “He said to save this for a special occasion. I figured getting revenge is important to you.”

Hels put away his own sword before taking the diamond one in his hand. It felt surprisingly light in his hand, and when he gave it a few test swings, he found it to be easy to handle. 

“Also, I’ve heard some rumor about there being a mineral somewhere in this world that’s stronger than diamond. You may want to go looking for it. I don’t want you coming back with more wounds than before.” The older man went back to staring out into the horizon in front of him, a small sigh leaving him. “You do that fighting them won’t—”

“I know it won’t,” Hels interrupted, a sudden anger in his voice. “I’m doing this in his name, not for him. There’s a difference.” 

BadTimes shook his head a little. “I know I cannot stop you. So I might as well do my best to keep you safe. You know as well as I do that death for us is different than for those who hail from the Overworld. There’s no guarantee that you’ll come back the same, if you come back at all.”

Hels said nothing for a moment, then closed his eyes. “I know. But I’m going to do what I can to bring justice for my friend.”

He heard BadTimes sigh once again before turning to leave. “Oh, one more thing— NPC wants your help with building a rustic house. Says he’s gotten inspiration with all of the newfound wood. I’d help, but I can’t do much besides the planning.” With that, he left Hels alone, the sound of his footsteps along with his cane assisting him echoing until Hels couldn’t hear it anymore. 

The silence was just what he needed, he told himself. His mind had to be sharp as ever if he were to go back for a second fight against his double. He was the only thing standing in his way; getting rid of him would assure him victory. Then, he would make everyone else pay. He’d kill whoever took Ex away. He’d make sure every single one of them felt even a fraction of the pain he had felt when he had realized that the only friend he’d ever had would never return. 

Finally, he opened his eyes, and turned to return to his abode. Even knights needed their rest, after all.

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Dreaming While I Wake

Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery

Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).

Words: 3,445 Warnings: Anger issues, Talk of JDC, Over-Apologizing, Food, Talk of Cryptids, Death Mention, Blood Mention Characters: Roman, Patton, Virgil, Thomas Universe: Dreaming While I Wake Genre: Family Fluff, actually

Chapter 22

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

   Roman mostly fumed for the drive home, and Patton let him do so without a fuss. He also let him take a nap. Roman was certain he ended up falling asleep at some point. He was awake when they got home, but the music changed to classical and he didn’t remember that happening. It also happened much faster than it should have in theory, not that Roman had any understanding of time. He was thankful for the space to process. He was mad about having to leave Remus again, but the ride home helped him get through that so he wasn’t as bitter anymore. Stupid anger issues. Stupid being resentful about being angry. Emotions were dumb.

   He accepted Patton's assistance to the couch, and with as much as his feet hurt, he didn’t bother complaining. Patton looked a little shell-shocked himself as he sat down near the corner of the couch, honestly. Roman wasn’t entirely sure what about, but the whole experience was both shitty and amazing, so he couldn’t blame him. Roman was somewhere between happy, sad, angry, and just straight vibing.

   Patton examined Roman for a moment as he settled down on the couch. “So, kiddo… I can’t say I followed all of that. Because somehow you two broke some kind of weird time barrier along with using fake words, jumping subjects like hopscotch and cursing as if you were sailors. But I think there are lots to unpack there,” Patton intoned, being careful with his enunciation.

   “Let’s throw out the whole garbage bag,” Roman shrugged, kicking out of his shoes to put his aching feet up on the couch. He didn’t feel like discussing it. He only just calmed down and wasn’t sure he could work down from being pissed off again.

   “I’d ground you for that language, but you are sort of already stuck at home and that feels uncharitable to take away video games or something,” Patton said off-handedly, looking a bit defeated as he leaned forward on his thighs.

   “See, too nice for your own good,” Roman chuckled, motioning with his arms towards Patton. Patton just blinked at him for an awkward moment.

   “I have literally never seen you so alive and animated. Ever. Even when you were sprinting with Lita,” Patton said, looking somewhat baffled. He scrunched up his lip to the side and kept staring unnervingly at Roman. “Also, I had no idea anybody could talk that fast,” Patton added, sounding a little impressed.

   “Remus and were always ‘if you stop moving you die’-type individuals,” Roman replied, fiddling with his jacket sleeves. He didn’t understand why he was being watched so closely. Did he do something? Was he supposed to do something? Roman chewed on the inside of his lip apprehensively.

   “I’ve just never seen you be that… high-energy. I mean, I knew you were energetic, but that was a whole other level. It was kind of overwhelming,” Patton stated, leaning back into the couch with a sigh.

   “Sorry,” Roman muttered, looking down at his lap.

   “No, no! I think I get why you were having so much trouble with following your homework yesterday if it’s always like that in your head. And why you act restless so often,” Patton held up his hands and shook his head. “You don’t have to say sorry,” He added gently.

   “I don’t follow what you’re saying, either,” Roman looked at Patton in confusion. “Am I in trouble for cussing?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern and still chewing his inner lip nervously.

   “Yes, but I don’t think it’d be right to punish you over it. Just try not to do it next time,” Patton said considerately with a small shrug.

   “I was 100% not thinking before speaking at JDC. I barely have that capacity in the first place,” Roman rolled his eyes and leaned back against the couch arm. He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep.

   “Well, that explains how you can talk so fast,” Patton chuckled and shook his head. “Seriously, you boys cussed more this afternoon then I’ve heard all year,” Patton said weakly, sounding kind of disappointed in Roman. The tone almost hurt, and Roman winced a little and played with his jacket zipper.

   “Sorry, I don’t have much of a filter,” Roman apologized dourly, tugging his zipper up and down.

   “It’s something we can work on, I guess. That kind of language doesn’t fly in the real world,” Patton said firmly, holding up his finger.

   “We were at Juvie. If there’s anywhere to cuss like prison inmates, it’s with the prison inmates,” Roman said and signed ‘inside prison,’ while he rolled his eyes.

   “That doesn’t mean you should do it,” Patton frowned at Roman. “Oh, hi Virgil,” Patton smiled towards the staircase. Roman signed hello as well.

   ‘Chips,’ Virgil signed, passing by. Roman blinked twice at Virgil actually explaining what he was up to, which didn’t happen that much. It was strange to see Virgil do non-cryptid of insults-like things. Unless maybe he was just powered by salt. What does a sodium-powered insult cryptid look like? Probably some kind of gangly demon. Virgil needs red eyes or something. He has bright hazel, but he deserves to be more of a cryptid in real life.

   “That whole event has me very confused. But first thing’s first, why didn’t you mention you had an identical twin?” Patton asked and shook Roman from imagining the various ways Virgil could look if he was skulking through the woods as a supernatural entity. Roman blinked and sat up straighter, his eyes shooting to Patton.

   “I didn’t realize the state hadn’t told you! You said you knew I had a brother. I didn’t realize you didn’t know we were born 17 minutes apart,” Roman threw up his arms. “I figured you’d find out soon and really wanted to see the face you made,” Roman explained sheepishly. Patton sounded upset at him about it, and it put Roman on edge a bit.

   “That’s kind of dishonest, Roman,” Patton chided, frowning at Roman. Roman scratched at his finger for a moment, feeling bad.

   “Letting the situation speak for itself isn’t dishonest. It’s shady at worst,” Roman shrugged slightly, trying to excuse himself. He didn’t understand why it would be a big deal. Virgil walked back into the living room munching on a bag of chips, looking interested. He placed the bag on the top of the couch.

   ‘Damn. Photo?’ Virgil signed while he stood behind the couch.

   ‘No phones allowed,’ Roman signed back the reason he couldn’t get one. He wanted a photo, too.

   ‘Shit,’ Virgil signed and snapped, looking disappointed. He came around to sit on the opposite couch arm while eating salt and vinegar chips by the handful.

   “There’re lots of things that I think I heard that just make me more thankful you’re already going to be talking to someone. I have to admit I feel awful that Remus has no support system in there knowing what I do now,” Patton said a little shakily. Roman stared at him incredulously for a moment. He was not entirely sure what Patton was going on about still until his brain caught up.

   “Oh! Well, he’s probably got friends if he’s teaching them our made-up twin language,” Roman replied with a slight shrug. “I don’t think anybody who doesn’t like him would put up with it. It’s a hard one,” Roman signed ‘impossible’. It was nearly a bitch to learn because of all the contextual words, so anyone putting up with that probably liked him. Patton hummed, not sounding that satisfied.

   “Do you know why he wants boxers?” Patton asked carefully after another pause of Roman fiddling with his zipper and the crunch of chips from Virgil.

   “Yeah, I heard about that,” Roman drawled in distaste. “They have communal underwear. The state doesn’t buy them any separate clothes,” Roman explained. Patton shivered in disgust. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but he had a visceral reaction to the idea no matter how he looked at it. He has known some revolting dudes in his life and would rather go commando than share cleaned underwear with them.

   ‘Fucking gross,’ Virgil signed and shook his head. Virgil must have agreed with the sentiment because he also stuck out his tongue and grimaced.

   “And, um,” Patton shot a glance to Virgil. “I think he said you were bi?” Patton asked quietly.

   “I mean, we can’t all get assigned gay by J. K. Rowling. Some of us have to settle on our twins maybe being the less repressed ones. I said I’d consider it, don’t go throwing me a pride parade,” Roman said dismissively. He didn’t wish to speculate about it, he didn’t want to deal with it, he wouldn’t prefer to hear a single slur from his dad’s mouth in his head again, so he’d just rather… not. Maybe later. Maybe. Is hermit a choice? Hermit sounds nice.

   ‘I got assigned gay by Nintendo , loser,’ Virgil fingerspelled with a teasing expression.

   ‘Lucky,’ Roman signed back, shooting Virgil a sarcastic grin after he scrunched up his lips. Well, there’s his confirmation. Virgil just ate his chips smugly.

   “I’m still very confused,” Patton creased his eyebrows and looked at Roman.

   “I’m saying I don’t know,” Roman motioned widely with his open palms as if motioning to all the shit he didn’t comprehend.

   “Okay, that I understand. I support you no matter what,” Patton said with a small reassuring smile. He appreciated the acceptance and all but considering Patton married a man, it was kind of a given.

   ‘Barf,’ Virgil signed with a grimace and his tongue out again. Roman couldn’t help but chortle at Virgil’s ridiculousness.

   “What if I come out as an asshole? Would you support me then?” Roman asked an absurd hypothetical just to make Virgil laugh.

   “What? No!” Patton objected and put his face in his hands, shaking his head slowly. Roman chuckled at Patton’s over-the-top reaction.

   ‘Owned,’ Virgil signed and snickered silently before shoving another handful of chips in his mouth.

   “I think I need to go process this with Thomas. Would you mind slipping your gloves back on?” Patton asked, sounding weary. Roman sighed dramatically and pulled them out of his pocket, making a big show about putting them on. “Thanks, kiddo,” Patton got up from the couch and went to Thomas’s office and closed the door.

   ‘How was the slammer?’ Virgil signed curiously.

   ‘Bullshit. There go our diabolical plans,’ Roman fingerspelled with a small eye roll.

   ‘Curses. Plan B, then. Attract vampires. Gay ones,’ Virgil signed back with a smirk and bounced his eyebrow once.

   ‘Perfect. Plan C is metal limbs. Now is Minecraft time,’ Roman signed, getting up to grab the laptop.

   ‘I’ll join you. BRB,’ Virgil signed and got up from the couch and headed upstairs. Roman sat back down and laid across the couch with the family laptop, elevating one foot against the arm of the couch. Virgil came back down with his laptop and sat on the top of the couch with his laptop in his lap. Like, join him in the living room or playing Minecraft? Did Virgil play Minecraft? Did he want to spend time with Roman of his own free will?

   ‘Make a world to join,’ Virgil signed. Roman shrugged and created a new world with a random seed and opened it to LAN. So Virgil played Minecraft. He didn’t strike Virgil as the sandbox type. And he wanted to play with Roman. That was unexpected. It wasn’t like he hadn’t played with foster siblings before, but he just hadn’t expected Virgil to want to do anything with him that didn’t involve watching TV and insults.

   Virgil’s demon avatar popped up a few moments later and immediately started punching trees. Roman joined him in the massacre of the local flora right away. He had set up a small house for them to wait out the night by the time the sun finished setting. However, Virgil was perhaps too feral and ran into the night with a wooden sword. Roman built the house close to the spawn point, so there wasn’t much harm in crafting up some wooden swords and joining him. Virgil played much differently from Roman. He just ran off and murdered until he ran out of supplies and then came back to the base Roman was building up with materials. He messaged for help sometimes, but just seemed content running headway into hoards of spiders in caves. He was clearly terrified of creepers, but who wasn’t? Everything else he wanted to murder without exception. Keeping up with Virgil’s need for torches was an event in itself.

   It was nice playing with someone that wasn’t a little kid, though. Roman got to focus more on the building when he preferred to and had someone to back him up in the caves when he would rather explore. They also insulted each other incessantly. Roman had been called a ‘ball-brained hamster’, a ‘sock full of hot go-gurt ’, and ‘hysterical trilling inanity’ in the last few minutes alone. He called Virgil a dark void where dreams go to die when Roman suggested a new addition to the base Virgil didn’t like. Virgil created a sign for the chest Roman kept filling with mining and murdering materials with that very name he liked it so much.

   “Boys, it’s past noon. I made lunch for everyone since you were playing games together. Get to a stopping point and come eat,” Patton called from the kitchen while Roman was harvesting a vein of gold. His inventory was nearly full, so he may as well turn around and head back to base. Roman retraced the trail of torches back, where he joined Virgil in setting stuff to smelt while they were eating. Virgil got up and Roman followed him into the kitchen.

   “The food smells good, Patton. Thanks for cooking for us when you didn’t have to,” Roman said, sitting down at the table and joyfully serving himself some broccoli-chicken mac-and-cheese at the plates already set. It smelled marvelous, and Patton hadn’t seasoned it oddly like that food last night.

   “I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s an excuse for a bonus eat-together time!” Patton smiled, though he still looked exhausted. Virgil grabbed the salt and vinegar chips he was eating earlier and crumpled them up on the top of his serving of mac-and-cheese. He held the bag over for Roman and raised an eyebrow. Roman shrugged and took a small handful of chips to do the same. The crunch and bite were pretty good on the creamy mac-and-cheese when he tentatively tried it.

   “Oh, that’s awesome,” Roman nodded and Virgil smirked, putting the bag down on the dinner table between the two of them. It wasn’t like Virgil to share his salty potato products, so the gesture weirdly flattered Roman. His standards for flattery had gotten low, it seemed. Thomas came into the kitchen and smiled at Roman.

   “Comfort food, Pat?” Thomas asked, arching an eyebrow at the food on the table.

   “ Roman is fine, but I’m not,” Patton said somberly as he served himself some mac-and-cheese.

   “Hm?” Roman looked up with his mouth full of mac-and-cheese when he heard his name and swallowed. “I’m sorry?” Roman apologized, but he did not understand what was happening.

   “No, Roman, you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to apologize,” Patton held up his hands and shook his head.

   “I heard my name and the fact that you’re not okay, so I think I kinda do ?” Roman said carefully, furrowing his brow nervously.

   “Do you remember what you talked to Remus about?” Thomas asked mildly, sitting down at the table in the remaining spot.

   “Uh-” Roman thought for a moment, trying to remember. “Um. Frozen, gayness, juvie, killing each other through a mirror universe… my family, I think,” Roman listed off. “Probably some other stuff, we were there for an hour,” Roman shrugged and took another bite of mac-and-cheese. It was a weird question to ask, but it’s not like he and Remus were talking about bad things, so he had no reason to hide it.

   ‘Can twins kill each other through a mirror universe? Metal,’ Virgil signed, looking darkly excited at the concept.

   ‘Only if they’re perfectly identical,’ Roman put down his fork and signed back while he chewed.

   “Agreed, he’s probably fine. Comfort food is excellent, though. Thanks for cooking, love,” Thomas rubbed Patton’s shoulder appreciatively.

   “It helps me process things, but there’s never a bad time for mac-and-cheese,” Patton said sagely, nodding and rubbing his chin wisdom.

   “Maybe not so much if you’re lactose intolerant. Unless it was your last meal, then it’s the perfect time for mac-and-cheese,” Roman provided with a small shrug. Virgil looked considerate and also nodded after a moment, chewing his food.

   ‘Poisoned mac-and-cheese would be a good method to die,’ Virgil signed. Roman raised his eyebrows and considered it, then tilted his head and nodded enthusiastically.

   ‘Only with bacon and serranos,’ Roman added. Virgil nodded in agreement, looking satisfied.

   “I really hope that’s table appropriate talk,” Patton narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

   “We’re just talking about variants of mac-and-cheese,” Roman provided dismissively. It wasn’t wrong, but he assumed Patton didn’t want to know that one of those variants was poison.

   “Pre-digested, right?” Patton asked carefully, pointing with his fork.

   “Gross!” Roman shot and Virgil stuck his tongue out. They both grimaced at Patton. “We’re not animals, geez,” Roman muttered bitterly and shook his head.

   “We discussed lactose intolerance. I had to be sure,” Patton said seriously as he looked between the two of them.

   “Well, you brought that part of the issues up, not us,” Roman rolled his eyes and slumped back in his chair dramatically.

   “Are your feet okay after having to be on them today?” Thomas asked, clearly in an attempt to change the subject. Roman could respect that since he’d rather be able to eat his food without feeling disgusted.

   “They’re not bleeding, I don’t think? They just hurt,” Roman replied, sounding just as unsure as he felt. He didn’t exactly check them when he got back. Bending down to do that hurt like a bitch and they didn’t feel weirdly hot or anything like that.

   “I’m not sure about you walking to school still on Monday,” Thomas deliberated, sounding concerned again. Thomas and safety, geez.

   “A proposed compromise: I call you if they start bleeding again,” Roman offered. Thomas seemed to like compromises, and it was reasonable in Roman’s opinion.

   “How about we check if your feet are okay in the morning and then make that the agreement if they’re healed enough?” Thomas suggested back an alteration to the compromise, and Roman narrowed his eyes and chewed his cheek for a moment.

   “You know I’ll be too out of it to argue with you in the morning,” Roman objected, stabbing at his mac-and-cheese.

   “I’m counting on it,” Thomas smiled knowingly and Virgil silently snickered at Roman.

   “ Hey ,” Roman glowered mildly at Thomas, pulling his lip to the side.

   “If they keep opening up and bleeding, it’ll just take longer to get back to your regular life, Roman. They need to heal fully,” Thomas reminded him, tapping the table with his finger to punctuate his point.

   “It’s just that one on my right foot that doesn’t like staying closed. What if I hop there?” Roman asked facetiously, rolling his eyes dramatically.

   “I’d love to see you try while not hurting your broken rib,” Thomas said glibly.

   “Okay, you know what?” Roman replied faux-angrily. “That’s fair,” Roman finished blithely and snickered. He reached in the chip bag and crumpled up one more chip on the remaining mac-and-cheese.

   “You had me going there, kiddo, not gonna lie,” Patton chuckled nervously after a second.

   “Sorry,” Roman apologized. “I was just having some fun,” Roman said sheepishly, curling in his shoulders.

   “I thought it was funny,” Thomas laughed lightly. Roman relaxed a little and continued eating, glad he wasn’t upset. Patton settled down too, though he was still eating much slower than his usual vacuum pace.

   ‘Want to continue playing after food?’ Roman put down his fork and signed at Virgil. Virgil scooped some more mac-and-cheese out before signing.

   ‘Father, I crave violence,’ Virgil signed back with an evil smile, and Roman laughed, not anticipating that response in any sense, and got a smaller portion of seconds for himself.

Personal Taglist: @bunny222 @elizabutgayer​ @prinxietyforever @kanene-yaaay-o-retorno @the-sympathetic-villain @croftersjam15 @ollyollyoxinfree @xytiiko

the taglist repository:

High school:  @dragonwithproblems @starlight-era @averykedavra  @potatsanderssides

Roman Angst:  @k1ngtok1

Hurt/Comfort:  @callboxkat @nonasficcollection @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123

Roman-Centric:  @smileyzs  @robinwritesshitposts @thatgaydemigodnerd

Fostering AU:  @i-am-not-a-dinner-roll

literally everything sanders sides:  @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun  @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven  @ananonsplace

[patrickstargang]

Forgotten Past, Hidden Future (Legend of Korra fic)

Chapter 1: Looking In The Wrong Places

Chapter 2: Lucky To Have You

Chapter 3: A Lot To Learn

Chapter 4: Kya’s Story

Chapter 5: A Tale of Maizu

Chapter 6: The Avatar’s Love

Final Chapter: The Mural

Kya moved her arms with a great sense of fluidity, bending the water not to attack but to be in a constant state of motion, slowly gliding around in a circle. She had her eyes closed but was able to keep the stream completely stable. It soon became a liquid ring, showing no signs of strain in its formation. It was perfectly balanced.

Korra slowly approached the pavilion, she didn’t want to interrupt Kya’s practice but she did want to see the impressive feat that was being performed. She stared in awe as the ring began to rotate, not losing a bit of its shape. It eventually began to morph into a perfect sphere in complete stasis. Not a single drop was lost. Her eyes were wide with amazement.

“So are you just gonna keep staring?” Kya’s voice startled Korra, even though she was right in front of her. The sphere morphed back into a stream that flowed into Kya’s water skin, sealing it back up. She turned to Korra with a playful, mischievous grin. “Or was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Korra let out a weak laugh and an even weaker wave. “Hey Kya.” She recomposed herself. “And...yes, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Kya leaned back against the railing of the pavilion, feeling the breeze of the nearby shore. “Let me guess, need some waterbending tips,” her smirk grew. “Or maybe some relationship advice.”

“No to both,” Korra chuckled. Her face became serious, looking off to the side and then back at Kya. “I wanted to ask you about the Earth Kingdom. When you talked with me and Asami, you said something about it and Avatar Kyoshi. Well ever since then I’ve been trying to find anything about Kyoshi’s relationships and same-sex couples in the Earth Kingdom, but I can’t seem to find…. anything.”

Kya’s expression changed, noting the desperation in Korra’s voice. It felt very familiar to her. “That's because you're looking in the wrong place.”

“Well, then how do you know about all of this?”

Kya let out a long sigh, a very tired sigh. She pushed away from the railing and sat down slowly in the middle of the wood boarded floor. She motioned to Korra for her to do the same. Korra was a bit unsure at first, but she eventually sat down. At first, she was expecting a random meditation session.

“Have you ever heard of Maizu Village?”

Korra stiffly shook her head, realizing this was not going to be about meditation.

“It was a relatively small community in the Earth Kingdom. But more importantly, it was a safe haven, for people from cities like Ba Sing Se or Omashu to express their open love of any gender. It's considered a safe haven because it's mostly off the map while still being in Earth Kingdom territory. It isn’t anywhere near Ba Sing Se or Omashu, it's deep within the wilderness. Earth Kingdom authorities still came around every now and then, but mostly they were able to find a peaceful space away from persecution.”

“That's amazing!” Korra blurted out, almost in disbelief. “How did you find out about this place.”

“Let's just say you're not the only one whos done a research project. After I came out to my parents, Katara told me about Maizu. Apparently she had found it during her journey with Aang to stop the Firelord. Many years later, me and my girlfriend took a trip to find the village. It was hard to locate but we eventually found it.”

“Everyone was so kind,” Kya was smiling unknowingly, reflecting on the good times that were spent there. “One of the things I remember the most about staying in Maizu was the stories they told. The history of how it came to be. The story goes, at a time when Earth Kingdom persecution was getting drastic, Avatar Kyoshi decided to help those who needed sanctuary. She brought them in secret to an uncharted area outside of Ba Sing Se, a place that was hard to get to but easy to live in. Maizu was the perfect spot for both supporters of open love and for stubborn hermits.”

They both laughed at the light-hearted joke. Korra began to realize why the books were lacking in any detail about same-sex relationships, maybe to cover up the persecution that was going on. At the same time, it might have also in part because they thought there would be no one left who would remember it. But there was. She couldn’t imagine the courage that Kyoshi had to do something like that, to just go against the entire Earth Kingdom. But then it struck her, she did go against the Earth Kingdom already with her run-in with Hou-ting.

“After the village began to have shape, the people gave their honor to Avatar Kyoshi. The village was considered blessed by her protection. Kyoshi Island is another example of a blessed spot, but a more Earth Kingdom friendly version of blessed. As the community started to form, they would do celebrations for Kyoshi. Many events celebrated her work as the Avatar and their sincere thanks to her. She apparently came to a few of these events, sometimes with her wife and daughter.”

Korra’s eyes went wide, her back straightened up, and in a fluster she tried to interject. “Wait, wait…. Did you say wife and daughter?!”

“Yep,” she said with an air of cockiness. “You heard me right, wife and daughter.”

Korra slightly leaned back in her spot. Many thoughts were running through her mind. About who Kyoshi really was. About how such a peaceful place like Maizu can exist in the middle of the Earth Kingdom. But she also started to think about Asami. For the first time, she started to think about having a future with her and what that would really mean. Though Kyoshi was met with struggle, even she was able to live with who she loved during a dark time. She started to think of Asami as someone really worth fighting for. Korra brought her attention back to Kya, silently expressing her enthusiasm by leaning forward with an attentive smile.

“Learning all of this gave me some perspective, at the time I mostly lived in Republic City and I was starting to see that not everything was as perfect around the Four Nations as I thought. And at the same time, I saw the resilience that such a small community could pull through with. Keep in mind, the original villagers were around during Kyoshi’s time, which was hundreds of years ago. Not to mention they stayed together during the Hundred Year War as well, when even the biggest cities were being brought down by the Fire Nation.”

In the middle of her fond recollection, Kya’s expression changed. Her smile faded slightly. “But it wasn’t meant to last. Not long after the Hundred Year War ended, Earth Kingdom authorities enacted stricter security over the land, occasionally using Dai Lei for those who were convicted of conspiring with the Fire Nation, sometimes wrongly convicted. Some of those people were from Maizu. And as time went on, many of the forests in the Earth Kingdom became less uncharted than it had in the olden days. When we visited, we heard talk of many of the villagers moving to Republic City to find a better life. But some of them have already spent most of their life in Maizu and were willing to stay. I made another visit many years later but all that was left was a mining town.”

The facts hit Korra like a ton of bricks. All the truth that was erased from the textbooks she read, it began to make sense. It wasn’t the actual history of the Earth Kingdom, but the history that they wanted to remember. Now the only sanctuary was turned into an industrial city. So much of that history is missing or gone entirely. She felt a knot in her stomach. “I can’t believe it. But, the villagers said they were going to Republic City. Maybe they’re still out there.”

“Possibly. But again, the community itself was small, even before I first visited. Some of them might have passed away by now, and for the ones who are still around it's hard to know if they’ve actually preserved their traditions. It's like finding a needle in a haystack.”

Korra’s eyes lowered. That feeling of defeat when she was talking with Tenzin came back, but it was worse this time around. She found a small part of what she was searching for, only to come to another dead end.

“How can they all just disappear like that. After staying together for hundreds of years…...now all of it's gone!”

“I know how you feel Korra,” Kya stood up, glancing back at the horizon. The sun was touching the water, leaving its reflection in the waves as a way of saying goodbye. “When I found out everyone had left Maizu, I was devastated. The village meant so much to me and many others. But I had to make peace with it, learn from it so a loss like that would never happen again.”

Korra got back up as well, joining Kya to watch the sun go down. She could feel the ache in her chest from before but was somehow alleviated by Kya’s words. “I just felt so close. So close to finally getting some piece of history I could save. Something that could help us. But it's all gone now. Now its nothing but stories.”

She dropped her head down. “If only I could talk to someone who lived in Miazu.”

“Well…..you can.”

Korra propped head back up, raising an eyebrow in confusion at Kya. “What do you mean.”

“Are you kidding?” Kya said with surprise and a tinge of humor. “Can’t believe that the Avatar herself forgot that she can talk to her past lives.”

Kya looked at the sky as it changed from a deep orange to pitch black. “But let's save that for tomorrow, alright?”

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

Korra stumbled through the halls of the temple, making her way to the dining hall. She forgot the scroll that she had left under the table. She felt totally exhausted, mentally exhausted. As she was walking down the hall, she noticed that the lamps were still on. That's strange , she thought to herself. Everyone’s probably headed off to bed by now. She didn’t care whoever was still in there, she just wanted to get the scroll and get some rest.

She walked in to find Asami sitting at one of the tables. A feeling of surprise and relief hit Korra all at once, being able to see her after a long, somewhat emotional day. It was obvious that Asami could see the surprise on Korra’s face, giving her a playful smile.

“Hey,” Korra said, completely red in the face.

“Hey,” Asami picked up the scroll from under the table. “Thought I might find you here.”

Korra scratched the back of her head, flustered at how well Asami knows her clumsiness and her trademark of leaving important things out in the dining hall. Asami got up and began slowly walking towards her.

“I know you’ve been wanting to stay here to focus on your studies, but I was starting to really miss you. I know we’ve both been busy with work, but I’ve got some downtime from the factory and I just wanted to see yo-”

Korra grabs Asami into a tight hug, showing no signs of letting go. It surprised her at first, but she quickly gave into the embrace and hugged her back. Korra nestled her face into her lover’s shoulder, trying to hide her eyes which started to well up. Asami brushed her hair with her fingers, lightly gliding over little strands and playfully spinning them around. They were close enough to hear each other's breathing, Asami was slow and long while Korra’s short and kinetic.

Korra lifted her head back up after her eyes dried. Asami put a hand to her cheek and let it stay there. “Hard day?” she asked.

Korra nodded. “Yeah,” she looked back up, deep into Asami’s eyes. A warm feeling welled up in her chest as she felt Asami’s hand, the tenderness of it. But it also came to her when she thought about what Kya said, about Kyoshi’s wife. She thought about how it made her think that having a future with Asami could be possible.  It took a moment to realize that they were both just smiling at each other, sharing big grins and comfortable silence.

“It was a hard day…...but not anymore.”

[wirewitchviolet]

Abuse I’ve just had to sit with forever

Right now I can’t look anywhere without seeing people speaking up about abusive monsters in various positions of power and it’s really triggering a lot of PTSD for me about all the times I’ve been in positions like that where nobody has ever listened or tried to help so... I’m just going to rattle off all the ones that come to my head, anonymously, and I don’t know, if anyone who knows me wants to ask me about any of these and/or try to really do something to help, maybe come talk to me about it through whatever private channel we talk in sometimes.

Family stuff. There’s a lot, and there’s no real way to talk about any of it anonymously because I mean being members of my family it’s already narrowed down way too much.

Someone once put me in the temporary care of a woman who savagely beat me because her own children were making too much noise when they should have been asleep. Bad enough that when I went back to school I was almost ripped out of my home by child protective services on the assumption that’s where it happened. Oh and she also force-fed me rotten food with maggots in it. I ended up pretty sick as a result, lost a whole lot of weight, and ended up with a serious eating disorder that’s plagued me since. I did eventually get out of there but I don’t know that I’ve ever really conveyed the full extend of it.

One of that woman’s children had some sort of torture kink, very nearly killed me, did put me in the hospital from injuries, and might have raped me. Hard to say because I was like... 7? Hard to translate those memories now that I have the context and vocabulary. I tried to explain that to anyone who’d listen at the time but, again, I didn’t have the vocabulary and I don’t think it came across that like... ropes and tools were involved, not just fists. Never got into that with therapists, because the first one I had really loved playing gatekeeper with trans stuff and liked the “maybe you just think you’re a girl because of abuse as a child” line of thinking too much already. I think I heard he eventually landed in prison though, so that’s something?

The first job I ever had. Games website. I was too young to be working but nobody ever thought to ask about it, and my family needed the extra income to avoid homelessness besides. The owner of the site... was really into open sexual roleplay in workplace text chats. I was so young and weirdly sheltered that I didn’t even process that that was even a thing, and 90% of it went straight over my head, plus I was in a weird state at the time with the whole trans thing where oh yeah, if anyone’s doing any roleplaying stuff on the internet, I’ll be in the character of me-but-a-girl but everything is pretend here right? So... there was a whole lot of mounting and thrusting being described and it took a few years to sink in that that was not in fact about him pretending to be a knight with me as a horse or something. And there was also a lot of... failing to pay me for years of backbreaking work, outright stealing from me, and I mean, I was up until like 4 AM every night working while still in high school. So, yeah. that was a lot. Never told anybody about any of this. So far as I know he still runs the site and nobody’s ever confronted him about anything.

Used to try to play various RPGs with some people in this extra niche-y game space. Sort of the first place I was ever read as a woman without offering anyone “corrections.” And... there was just this one guy who whenever he was GMing had some weird creative excuse for my character (usually the only woman in the party) to... be raped and/or impregnated just all of the sudden and totally out of left field. Which everyone was OK with somehow. And when he wasn’t GMing he was all over my character of course. Never really spoke up to anyone. I just left one day.

Ended up... in the inner circle of someone very famous. Mostly famous for being a victim of abuse. Which is why I ignored... every single red flag there is that someone is an abusive person and taking advantage of everyone around them. They controlled every aspect of my life for years. Had me do a whole lot of work for them, place myself in real physical and psychological danger, regularly. Directly asked me to severe ties with most people in my life. Install kill-switch sortware on my laptop for their piece of mind that none of our conversations would ever be seen by anyone, while also making me talk only in privately managed chat services where they logged everything and my screen wiped at regular intervals, and insisting I use an untraceable alias in it. All of this I was constantly assured was for my own safety as much as theirs, somehow, and that I was their most valued friend who they would keep safe, start paying a huge salary to soon, as well as help secure me a safe place to live and get properly started on medical transition stuff that I was unable to do in the increasingly unsafe place I was living at the time. I could keep going with this, but again, I don’t want anyone playing guessing games. Eventually, as serial abusers do, this person got sick of me, cast me out, and said presumably unspeakable things about me to everyone in that social circle, because everyone quite promptly cut all ties to me without a word. I once mentioned some small fraction of this publicly in defense of... multiple people attempting suicide as a result of this person’s abuse, and it was made very, very clear to me that this is not someone I will ever be able to safely speak about in public.

Another person who is very famous, with ties to abuse prevention stuff, added me to a blacklist to kill my career prospects and then kinda put a hit out on me on a neo-nazi website, but I’ve written about that incident. Nothing happened as a result of speaking out aside from the violence I was already being subjected to ramping up and more people cutting ties with me. Oh and those who didn’t are still quite friendly with her.

Several women with ties to... dangerous people randomly got it into their heads several years ago that I posed some sort of threat to someone I am told they “feel very protective towards” and... unleashed a hell on me unlike anything I have ever seen. I have spent the past 6 years now dealing with death threats from far right terrorist organizations who in some cases have very sizeable body counts, and those groups don’t scare me anywhere near as much as these people. Anyone else I have seen them paint a target on completely withdrew from the internet their careers and any sort of public life to try and stay off their radar. I have had multiple people privately confide in me that they had been threatened never to speak to me again before proceeding to make good on that. I have individually thrown myself at the mercy of every single one of them, explained that I have absolutely no ill will towards any of them, and had never even heard of this person they’re “protecting” before they started coming after me. Nothing has worked. They’ve never stopped. I’m legitimately afraid someone connected to them is going to murder me some day, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve confided in all of maybe 3 people about this. One might be dead, one is a total hermit, the third briefly tried supporting me, received threats, and promptly retracted everything, replacing it with a fire and brimstone speech about how I am an evil monster who tricked them. I have regular nightmares about this, and collapse into a shivering heap just seeing any of their names mentioned.

I... spent a good deal of time in social contact with a person I have been told I need to be friends with to advance in a career I would like to pursue. While doing so, he sabotaged a project that was fairly important to me, and I saw some him mistreat someone else in ways I find quite disturbing, but that’s her story to tell and not mine. I don’t feel comfortable around him, and have no real choice but to give up on those dreams. Haven’t really discussed this anywhere. The sort of work I can get would definitely vanish completely if I did.

The sort of work I can get also involves working for a variety of companies with people very high up the ranks who have seriously harmed a number of people I consider to be very good friends, in ways that in some cases include sexual abuse, and I... really would prefer not to ever work for anyone employing such people now that I am aware of this.

Yet another famous person, but one who I feel perfectly comfortable naming, Graham Linehan, used to follow me on social media with a level of enthusiasm that could arguably be better referred to as stalking. Then later he joined some extremist anti-trans hate group and rose to the top pretty quickly. And some years after that, it finally sank in that worshiping a trans woman while also leading a group of people bent on killing us all, so he has been very loudly and very publicly rambling about his hatred for me specifically. I don’t really have to speak up about this one because he’s doing plenty of that on his end, but I do have to note that while this famous person terrorizing me hasn’t really earned me any sort of public defense or sympathy, it has encouraged a whole lot of people to invent an alternate timeline of events where I am directly responsible for him being a bigot, leading to me getting dangerous threats from both horrible bigots and people who claim to hate horrible bigots but have suspiciously poor aim.

Hey speaking of celebrities, one of the stars of Firefly used to regularly send me photos of violently distended testicles. One of the stars of Star Trek once posted something encouraging millions of social media followers to attack me and left it up for a weekend. One of the producers of World of WarCraft once threatened to sue me for libel and went on a big PR tour about it, speaking on podcasts and such, and so many fascists pretending to be journalists have dumped so much crap on me...

And not to long ago in something of a wacky mixup, someone ELSE rather famous, who does diversity consulting no less, confused me for someone else and cut loose with a horrific bit of hate and gossip and throwing me under the bus, and misgendering me, saying random harassers baselessly calling me a pedophile were probably onto something. Privately told a handful of people about that, because I thought she was a friend and that was so heartbreaking, but anyone I told is just pretending not to have seen it.

Someone was once offering me help because I was in a dangerous situation, financially. I explained that things had been extra hard since coming out as trans. Suddenly he goes from helpful and concerned to just... violent. Screaming a me, openly trying to chase me out of the space we were both in. I reported this to the proper people. They tried talking, he left. The whole community mourned the loss and wondered who could have driven him off. Still doesn’t feel like a safe place for me.

I don’t really know why I’m bothering with all of this. Nobody is actually going to help. I’d say nobody is actually going to read this, but I’m sure plenty of people who hate me will to see if I’m talking about them and use it as justification to make things worse. Plus some people I’m not talking about I’m sure. I get plenty of that all the time.

Nothing ever helps and you can’t ever win. If you try to keep the abusers appeased by not outing them, the abuse never stops. If you try to speak up, their fans and friends treat it like declarations of war and pile on. If you just try to be there for other people when they’re being abused, you get singled out as a “troublemaker” and added to hit lists and black lists and... nothing works.

I don’t want a lot out of life. I want to know I have enough food, and have a place to live where I’m not at risk of dying from either temperature extreme, a bathroom, enough room for my book shelves, a bed, a couch, a dinner table, and a yoga mat. Maybe a space where my cats can run around a little enclosed semi-outdoor area for the fresh air and sun. I want to be able to deal with my medical problems. I want to see and talk to friends sometimes. If I’m really greedy, I’d like to have all that for a particular friend too who I’m constantly worrying about dying of poverty. And I’d like to be able to work on games. Maybe play them sometimes. Maybe watch things.

And that’s the really messed up part. Because abusive people and people supporting the structures of abuse always say they just want to focus on getting work done, or having fun, and it’s a lie. What’s most important for them is perpetuating abuse. They could just stop, or get rid of the people doing it, and the rest of us could live our lives and everything would be fine. But no instead we have to drop everything and make sure no woman anywhere feels safe enough to even breath.

[raiswanson]

The Loving Seal Shorts #8: Vina (Nyvina PoV)

(So during Fluffcember last month I did one prompt for Seals, because really, when the prompt is “Song” who else could I choose? ;))

The number is a little confusing since I’ve begun writing out of order, but this piece chronologically takes place a little after “Mean”, and you can find the rest of the pieces (in order!!) on the Seals WIP page!

(This short is roughly 1800 words!)

I couldn’t find him anywhere. I looked up and down the beach to no avail, checked the shallows nearby only to find hermit crabs and clams. The other pups were surprised to find he wasn’t with me, and the adults barely even remembered who he was yet.

Kaelan was nowhere to be seen.

When I finally became worried by his absence—he hadn’t decided to run away, had he? He’d really seemed to like it here—I made one last effort and swam out to the small island on the other side of our bay. If he wasn’t there I didn’t know where else I’d look. I’d only taken my eyes off of him for a little while! Just one nap!

As my head cleared the surface of the water I heard singing down the beach. The sound was gentle and quiet, rippling across the waves to coax me toward them—actually, I felt an almost physical pull. The longer the notes rang, the more I felt I needed to get onto the beach to find the source.

It was happening to other creatures too. The fish were thicker in the shallows than usual, nearly beaching themselves in an effort to get close. Little crabs skittered across the sand toward the small cove just a ways inland.

I could tell it was Kaelan’s voice, but it didn’t sound like him at the same time. Like when he’d gotten angry those few times before. But this wasn’t scary. Just...different.

He was perched by a little pool when I scrambled onto the beach and followed the singing. His head jerked up as I drew near, song dying as he broke away from his own reflection in the water. The click of his jaws snapping shut made me wince, but I tried to smile anyway.

“That sounded pretty,” I said, puzzled when he didn’t answer. That was weird. He hadn’t seemed to ever want to stop talking ever since he’d started. I’d already gotten used to his cascade of chatter. It’d become a comfort. “What were you singing?”

“Mama’s safety song.” I could hardly hear his whisper.

I plopped into the sand beside him, peering into the pool. To my surprise a reflection was barely visible in the surface, instead there was only a clear view to a series of nonsense markings at the bottom. They didn’t look like they’d been made by any animals, and when I raised my head I saw a wet stick beside Kaelan, damp just to the depth of the pool.

“Was looking all over for you. I was worried,” I told him, folding my sealskin around me and lightly tapping my toes in the water.

Kaelan watched me splash with a distant expression, then swallowed. “I don’t like being alone.”

“Why’d you go here then?” I blurted out, making him wince.

“I...” he tucked his face into his knees and whimpered, “I don’t know.” Sniffling, he raised his eyes just enough to peek into the pool, drawing in a shivering breath. “I miss my Mama.”

I peered down at the markings again. Now that I was trying harder, I could almost see a face in the lines he’d drawn. Or the outline of a big seal. Or maybe it was both. It was hard to tell, but I wasn’t exactly a masterful artist of a selkie myself.

He sucked in a short gasp when I shuffled close to put an arm around him, and turned his sad, droopy eyes toward me. My heart clenched up tight and I squeezed harder to match it. “You came here to be less lonely, right?” I asked, knowing it didn’t really make sense.

Nodding, he hugged his knees and sniffed.

“Did singing your Mama’s song help?” I asked more quietly.

He shrugged.

“What if I sing it with you?” That made him look up sharply, eyes wide. “What? Is that bad?”

Still staring, he shook his head. “No...it’s not bad...I just...” he ducked behind his knees and gave me a long look, brow pinched, “I don’t know how to teach it, and no one else in the pod could...could ever sing it, so I don’t know if...”

I hummed and flopped back to lean on my hands, smiling at him. “That’s okay. I’ll try to learn it! And if I can’t I’ll just listen and hum along instead!”

He still looked nervous, but he bobbled his head in agreement and closed his eyes. There was a moment of calm, with only the sound of waves echoing through the cove, and then he took a steadying breath and leaned his head back.

The singing from before filled the air, lilting in the voice that was and wasn’t his. It hummed in the space around us, burrowing deep in my ears. Tickling the back of my neck. But despite the song clearly being a song, and knowing I could hear the words...I couldn’t understand it. No matter how I listened, I couldn’t track the tune. It rolled and danced and pulled me along with it but I couldn’t grasp it enough to join in.

But it was so beautiful. It made my heart feel light, like Kaelan did, and even if I couldn’t sing along I could at least hum like I’d told him.

So that was what I did. I listened along for one more try and when the words kept evading me I began to hum. His voice faltered at my addition, and he blinked toward me in surprise, but when I kept humming and smiling he evened out again.

Then, the song changed. It became simpler, so I could almost follow it now. The words still slipped away like water through my fingers, but I could feel it now. Inside me. Humming in my chest like it belonged there.

We passed it back and forth for a while, then it changed again, and oh. I could taste the words this time. Feel them right on my tongue, tickling behind my lips. If I just opened my mouth I was sure I’d be able to sing it with him, out loud.

But I fell silent instead, funny flutter in my chest. This song was different now. I liked it, but I was confused.

Kaelan stopped singing. “Vina?” he peeped, voice timid and shy. He sounded bashful now, not miserable like before. Bashful, and a little scared. I wasn’t sure why.

“Did you start singing another song?” I asked, frowning and trying to remember what I’d heard.

He tipped his head forward, face darkening. “...yes,” he admitted.

“The first one was the safety song...” I pressed, thinking. He nodded, so I asked asked outright, “What’s the new one?”

His gaze lowered to the pool. He didn’t answer right away, tucking his feet up closer as he looked everywhere but back to me. Just as I was about to give up and let him keep the song to himself, he blurted out, “Vina.”

I frowned. Had he looked away for so long he thought I’d forgotten we were talking? “Yes?”

Color filled his grayish face, red blooming under his freckles and filling his ears.

“Vina,” he said again, more articulately.

“Yeah, what—”

“That’s what the song is. It’s Vina,” he said abruptly, sinking into his sealskin when my mouth popped open. “I wanted a song you could sing with me, but you couldn’t sing the ones my Mama did, so...I tried to make you one,” he added quickly, as if afraid I still didn’t understand. “It...I don’t know how it...but when I sing I just...I sing my feelings instead of normal words like everyone else in the pod did. And that’s what it feels like when I try to sing for you. That song.”

I gazed into his eyes, staring at the anxious twist on his face. “So you just made the song now? For me?” I asked, wanting one more confirmation.

He squeaked. “Yes...is that okay…?”

“Yes!” I cried back in delight. “I’ve never had a song made just for me before! And it sounds so pretty!” I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering the way the song had resonated so strongly with me, like it had been a part of me. “It felt right. Thank you.”

His face lit into a bright enough grin to light up the whole ocean, then fell just as fast. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make it so you could sing too but it didn’t work,” he mumbled.

I bit my lips between my teeth and leaned forward to peer into the water again. When he’d first come to the pod, he’d said his Mother had sung with him. I’d had a good idea of why he’d come here before, but now I felt pretty sure. The realization made my chest hurt.

“You really want me to sing with you?”

“Yes.” He sounded much more certainly than before. “I like...your voice,” he added, face and shoulders still dark red but a smile on his face. I couldn't help but grin back. His smiles were all so contagious. Always. If it’d keep the smiles on his face, I’d sing forever.

“Then any time you feel lonely, you come find me and I’ll sing with you, okay? You don’t have to go sing by yourself. If you don’t wanna be alone then I won’t let you be,” I told him with all the brimming confidence of a child eager to brighten a friend’s spirits.

It worked though. He looked up with so much emotion in his eyes that they spilled out as tears, and he blinked them away with a nervous giggle.

“Thank you...” he mumbled, wiping his face and running his fingers across the nearly-healed scars on his cheek. Then we sat quietly for a while, comfortable in the silence as Kaelan rocked on his heels at a loss for what I say. I was at a loss too, lost in watching him, then something came to mind.

“Hey, Kaelan?”

“Yes?” he answered too quickly, like he’d been waiting for me to call for him. His eagerness made me giggle, heart warmed by his jumpy willfulness to please.

“Can you sing again? The song for me?”

He let out a big breath at the question, but recovered and nodded. “O-okay,” he gulped, nervous laughter spilling out before he settled and began to sing. There was a small warble in his throat as he began, but it disappeared right away and strengthened into the lovely song from before.

Vina.

A song just for me. A song that hummed even deeper in my chest and made my fingertips tingle the longer it went on.

I closed my eyes to let Kaelan’s voice flow through me, breathing the wordless tune in until it came back to rest on my tongue, then opened my mouth to join in.

[minedcrafts]

/ban

Myself, @quartz-slab, and @endstone-brick are back with another fic! We actually started this one a while back, but then we all got distracted by other things and only managed to finish it now.

---

Xisuma was about ready to start tearing his hair out over this build. He just wanted to work on a design for a new shop, but apparently, that was too much to ask today. It had been two hours now, and nothing he did looked right. He’d switched the block palate three times already and was starting to lose count of how many times he’d built and torn down this same stretch of wall.

Whatever that number was, he was about to add one more to it. With a long, drawn-out groan of frustration he removed the blocks he’d just placed down and backed up to see if he could find out where he was going wrong.

He narrowed his eyes at the half-completed wall like he could glare it into not looking awful. There had to be something he wasn’t seeing. A section that was too wide, a detail that was off center, a color that was throwing everything else off. He knew it was there, but he couldn’t fix it until he found it, and it was proving stubbornly elusive.

“Maybe if I move those windows over a block?” he muttered to himself after staring at it for several seconds. “No, then they’d be too close to that pillar…”

Leaving and coming back with fresh eyes would probably be the smart thing to do, but he was determined to get this design finished today. This little shop was not going to get the best of him.

The soft swish of an elytra passing low overhead derailed his train of thought, and he automatically turned to see who was interrupting him, just in time to see them throw a potion at him. He quickly dodged out of the way, but didn’t manage to avoid the splash entirely.

For a moment he thought he had, because he didn’t feel any different. Then he looked down to check if it had hit him and realized that he was completely see-through.

Someone laughed behind him, and he whirled around to see Scar sitting on top of his unfinished build. He was wearing his vex mask, so X couldn’t see his face, but he could clearly hear the grin in Scar’s voice when he spoke. “Sorry, X, guess I didn’t see you there!”

X drew in a deep breath in an attempt to keep his annoyance from spilling out. It didn’t work. “You think it’s funny to make people disappear, do you?”

“Well-.”

“Why don’t you try it, then.” Without waiting for Scar’s response, X raised a hand and snapped his fingers, causing the other hermit to abruptly disappear from view.

After a moment, he sighed, shoulders slumping as some of his annoyance faded away. Banning Scar like that wasn’t a reasonable response to such a small prank, and he knew it. The potion had already worn off, and it wouldn’t have done any harm even if it had hit him full on. Maybe he did need to take a break if he was going to react like this to a simple joke.

Another snap, and Scar reappeared with a loud gasp. He tugged off his mask, dropping it onto his lap so he could press his hands against his face, and took several deep breaths before he spoke. “What was that?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have banned you like that. I guess I’m just a little testy today,” X apologized.

“No, that - that place. It was so weird, it felt like... I was floating in an empty void, and I couldn’t move at all. It was… really unnerving.”

“I didn’t realize it was that uncomfortable; no one’s ever actually told me what it’s like.” Not that he’d really banned anyone before. Well, other than Evil X, who he’d banned a week or two ago. Why hadn’t he said anything about it, anyway?

Oh. Oh right.

Oh no.

His eyes widened in realization. “I- I need to go,” he blurted out.

“What? Where are you-” Scar cut off when he saw that X had already rocketed off on his elytra. “Huh, wonder what that was all about.”

---

Right next to the unfinished movie studios, X stumbled as he landed in a hurry. Regaining his balance, he hastily raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

Evil X appeared a few feet before him and immediately dropped to his knees. He placed one hand on the ground to support himself and clutched the other to his head. He was breathing heavily, and as X drew closer, he noticed that Evil X was also shaking. Seeing someone that was normally energetic and chaotic look so vulnerable was… very strange, and it sent a shiver down X’s back.

X stopped right in front of his counterpart. “Evil X?” No response. “Evil X?” he called again, “You in there?” He reached out and tentatively placed a hand on Evil X’s shoulder.

Immediately, Evil X shot up and pushed X away. “Stay back!” He backpedaled a few steps, but disorientation from standing up so quickly caused him to fall back down almost immediately.

Evil X was nearly hyperventilating now as he sat on the ground, his eyes darting around rapidly. Eventually, he focused his gaze on X. He tried to glare, but couldn’t hide the fear and panic in his eyes. “D- don’t come near me! You... you put me in that wretched place, and now you bring me back, for what? To taunt me?” He let out a hysterical laugh. “Who’s the ‘evil’ one now?”

Despite his harsh words, X could tell that Evil X was completely overwhelmed; He was shaking like a leaf, and his voice didn’t contain the sharpness it usually had. X felt a pang in his heart as his normal animosity towards his evil twin dissipated somewhat.

Carefully, X made his way towards Evil X again. He crouched down a short distance away, doing his best to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “Hey, I’m… uh, look - I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that being banned was… this bad.”

“Don’t lie to me! You know what that place is like, why else would you send me there?”

“I didn’t know,” X insisted. “I’d never banned anyone before, there was no one to tell me what it was like.”

“So I got to be your test subject, huh? Lucky me,” he spat.

“That’s not…” X trailed off, unsure what to say. Evil X wasn’t entirely wrong, seeing as he was the first person to be banned, but he hadn’t sent him there to find out what it was like. He’d been annoyed and tired and generally not in the mood to deal with Evil X’s nonsense, so he’d decided to skip the confrontation entirely and deal with him later - and then ended up completely forgetting about it.

Evil X speaking in his raspy voice again broke him away from his thoughts. “So, what are you waiting for?”

“Waiting for what?”

“To ban me again!” Evil X yelled, his gaze brimming with hostility. “Why won’t you just get it over with? I know you want to.”

“I don’t! What kind of person do you think I am? I’m not evil like -” like you, X started to say, then cut himself off. That wasn’t helpful right now. “Look - I’m not going to ban you again. If I’d known what it was like, I never would have left you there in the first place. No one deserves that.”

“Yeah, sure,” Evil X muttered, voice just barely audible, before continuing in a louder tone. “What are you here for, then? If you’re not going to ban me, just go away and stop bothering me.”

X hesitated. It didn’t feel right to leave his counterpart alone when he was so clearly upset, but at the same time, there didn’t seem to be anything else he could do. “Are you sure-?”

“Are you deaf? I said go away,” Evil X snapped, cutting him off.

X sighed. “...Alright.” He pushed himself to his feet and stepped back, legs stiff from crouching for so long. After staring at Evil X’s scowl for a moment, he finally turned around and started to walk away.

X turned around the corner of one the studio’s buildings, then stopped. He couldn’t just leave Evil X alone - that could go sour in multiple ways. He leaned up against the wall and mumbled to himself. Maybe he should get someone else to keep an eye on his counterpart. But, at the same time, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess. This was his fault and he should be the one to deal with it, but Evil X wouldn’t talk to him now. You’ve really gotten yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh X? he said to himself.

As X contemplated what to do, a soft sound suddenly broke through the silence of the studio. It sounded vaguely like...crying? No, that couldn’t be right. The only person around was…

X peeked around the corner and was greeted with the most contradictory sight he’d ever seen. Evil X had his arms curled around his legs, and he was sobbing quietly. Evil X, who had tried to destroy the server more than once! It didn’t seem real to X, but it hurt to watch anyway.

He took a half step forward, his automatic instinct to comfort his counterpart conflicting with the knowledge that Evil X didn’t want X anywhere near him right now. What if he made it worse? But he couldn’t just leave Evil X to cry alone. Against his better judgment, X approached Evil X again.

X stopped about a foot away from Evil X, his counterpart having not noticed him yet. His mind raced as he tried to decide what to do next. Tentatively, he placed a hand on Evil X’s shoulder.

In response, Evil X yelped and shot upward. He spun around, his eyes widening when he saw X. “What?” His voice cracked as he spoke. “Why are you still-”

Before he could continue, X suddenly wrapped him into a hug, causing Evil X to fall silent. X had intended to try to console him, but all he could get himself to say was “I’m sorry.”

Evil X was unable to respond for a moment. At first, he just stood there stiffly, before slowly raising his arms. For a moment, it seemed like he might push X away, but then he awkwardly returned the hug. Before he knew it he was crying again, his grip around X tightening.

Once Evil X was all cried out, X carefully let go of him and stepped back. “Better now?”

Evil X wiped his face with his sleeve, keeping his eyes lowered. “...Sorta.”

“Well, that’s a start.” X shifted slightly, placing a hand behind his head. “Since this mess is kinda my fault, I think I’m obligated to help you now.”

For a moment, Evil X looked like he was going to protest, but he instead responded with “What do you mean?”

“I can’t just leave you out here, and as far as I know you don’t have a house. So uh...  you can stay at my base for now, if you want.”

“What?” Evil X said in surprise. “You’d actually be okay with that?”

A smile formed on X’s face. “As long as you don’t freak out every time I approach you.” He outstretched a hand. “Deal?”

“...Deal.”

[sunnyborabora]

You put a spell on me (Jimin x Reader) Chapitre 1

Y/n bears a heavy secret that she can’t share. Isolated and lost she is forced to move to another city for her protection. The only thing she wants is to discover what happened to her family and maybe staying alive. But in a world full of wolf it’s difficult not to feel like a lamb. 

Warning: social anxiety, angst (nothing much really), Jimin is a soft boy

First chapter of a new serie in the same universe than Alpha! I am really excited about it! You don’t have to read Alpha to read this serie but it would be great to have all the details of the story. Love you all ~

Jimin was not really captivated by his class. Theory wasn't his specialty. He was good at dancing, he liked it more than anything. And it was what he wanted to do with his life. Except it wasn't always the case. Even as a dance major he had to know some theory. Dance history was usually a subject he liked, but he could not concentrate this time. He was looking for Hoseok, he was unable to spot the red hair man. He was feeling alone, and it had not happened in a long time. Being surrounded by a lot of friends had become usual for him. Sometimes it was even vital. But his friends were really busy. Yoongi was graduating this year and was busy studying for his exam, Namjoon was a member of at least a thousand association and it was taking him all his free time, Taehyung was trying to make a portfolio as a photograph and was chasing models, Hoseok was the leader of their dance crew and had a thousand things to do because of that. He had not seen Jungkook in a long time. Well what was a long time for him. The boy was spending all his time with his new girlfriend, the alpha girl he had met at the grocery store. Jimin had nothing against her. She was actually a nice person, a good alpha and her aura was making him feel safe and relax, which was a thing that never really happened when he was near alpha that wasn't his friends. But the truth was there. She was stealing his best friend. His Jungkookie. And even if he felt like he was not supposed to be jealous, at least not for the reason he was, he was still jealous. In fact, he could not believe Jungkook had found an alpha before him. The kid had been an omega for three weeks, and he already had a girlfriend that cared and was ready to do anything for him. The worst was that Jungkook never wanted this. He never wanted to be an omega. He didn't want to have a girlfriend or a boyfriend. But it was all Jimin wanted. In the opposite of the maknae, Jimin had always enjoyed being an omega. He knew since he was a child it was what he would be. He was soft, caring, and wanted a big family he could spoil and protect. But he never had chance with any of his partner. He had no problem with finding companionship for his heat, it was in fact pretty easy. Finding someone he would love was almost impossible. He was maybe too romantic. He was in love with the simple idea of falling in love. If it wasn't love at first sight he was not interested. He knew it was stupid, but he could not help it. He was almost falling asleep when his eyes fell on a girl. She was sitting alone on the side, no one was sitting near her, as there was a security perimeter around her. He didn't recognize her, he had not seen her anywhere before. Which was weird because he was sure he knew everyone in this class. He kept looking at her, curiously, almost getting caught staring as she turned around a few times. She was pretty Jimin thought. Maybe she was a new student. He should go at the end of the class talk to her. She might use some company as she seemed as lonely as him right now. He smiled at the idea of making a new friend. The class was over and as he was turning his computer off, he saw her almost running out of the class. He tried to pack faster, with a bit of luck he would find her in the corridor. But she wasn't there. Deception took over him. He really was disappointed. He didn't know why this reaction. But he knew he would have like to meet her. You almost yeeted out of class at the end of the hour. Not that you felt uncomfortable, because at this rate you never really felt comfortable, but you could feel it. Someone was looking at you. When you were turning around nobody was watching you. But you knew, wolf were sneaky. You didn't want anyone to come and threaten you or worse try to befriend you. You walked through the corridor not really knowing where you wanted to go. In fact, you were supposed to go to the library to work on an essay but you had no idea where it was. And it was not possible for you to ask anyone. Last time you asked for direction the girl had come back a day later telling you that you should not bother to talk to her ever again. Apparently she thought that you were just on suppressant, so when she learned that you weren't a wolf... You weren't expecting it would be that bad. At least the girl who was supposed to help you was nice. Actually she was more than nice. A sweetheart really. But she couldn't be with you all the time so you had to go  through this alone. You stopped walking, you didn't know where you were going so it was useless. You were praying in your head that the goddess would send you a sign. Anything that would lead you right to the library. « Excuse me ? » You turned around almost having a heart attack. It was a man, maybe the same age as you, a bit older maybe. He had a nice smile, a dimple pocking his cheeks. « Are you new ? You seem a bit lost. » It was awesome. You probably looked like a dumb ass. « Yeah... Actually I am looking for the library. But I don't know where it is. » He smiled again. « Don't worry. You are not far away, it the staircase on the left, just keep walking through this corridor ». You smiled at him ready to leave. « Hey I am Namjoon by the way. I am a philosophy major. And you ? » You blinked a few time. « I am Y/n. History major. » Someone called him behind him. He turned around before telling you. « Well I hope you'll find the library. See you Y/n ! -See you Namjoon » your words hang in the air. He was already gone. You did as he said and indeed you find the library. You tried not to look too mortified. You were just uncomfortable with men. The first man you saw was the wolf who come pick you up from the place you were waiting when you ran away from home. You were not used to society as you had grown in a coven. Thanks god you were not like some of those hermits type of witches and you had received an education. Trying not too much to think about how you ended up here, you sat down and opened your book. You choose to study history because it was the subject you liked the most and you had the most knowledge about. It has been interesting so far, even if you thought it was very « wolf centered ». It must be that to be the dominant in society. Even history couldn't resist. You tried to stay as far away from other students as possible, you knew that by now, probably everyone knew who you were. It may have been a big university, people were talking. Happily no one has tried to talk to you. Yet. You finished your essay pretty fast, not that you were a specialist in story of Salem and trial of what people from the time called « witches ». You were putting one of your book back on its shelf when someone coughed behind you. You turned around to see a boy around your age. He was smiling at you gently. You didn't know this dude, and as soon as you looked into his eyes you knew something was off. But could you really say anything as every man was sending shiver down your spine. The fear of the unknown apparently. Maybe the fact hat you could literally see people's aura and were sometimes totally linked to their emotions was making you a bit antsy. He genially seemed like a good person. « Hey ! I am sorry if I scarred you, I am Jeahyun, we are in the same history of music class. -Oh. Well I am Y/n... -I know, he said, everyone learned who you were those last few days since you arrived ». Awesome. Exactly what you wanted. « So you were studying ? -Yeah I just finished one of my essay. I was leaving. -Oh... Sorry if I am bothering you. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come with me. I mean some of my friends are doing a small party and I just thought it would be cool if you'd agree to go. You could make some friends as you are new and everything. » It was actually nice of him. He didn't seem to be repulsed by you or anything. But there was no way in hell you would come with him. « Sorry. I am supposed to meet friends tonight. -Really ? That's cool you already know people. » You felt like he was doubting your words. Did you like that clueless of any human interaction ? « Yeah. Nari is my friend. -Nari ? The music major alpha ? -Yeah. » He simply nodded smiling gently as he accompanied you to the exit. You were so hyper aware of Jaehyun presence that you didn't even watch where you were going. You bumped into someone the firm body almost making you fall over. « Y/n are you okay ? » you heard Jeahyun asked. But you were too stunned to answer right away. The hand of the stranger was wrapped around your wrist to stabilize you. His contact was so warm. His skin almost too hot to handle as it was touching yours. It was not painful, but it was warming up your entire body. It was something you've never felt before. No magic had never had this effect on you. When you finally looked at him you almost were blinded. You've never seen such an aura. He was surrounded by bright orange and soft pink, the power of it almost too much for your eyes. It was suiting him perfectly, the soft hue of orange highlighting his soft features. He looked like an angel. He let go of your arm in what seemed forever even if it only has been a few seconds. « Hey Jimin -Oh Jahyun. I did not see you. » Jimin was a wolf from what you could feel. You were not excellent with dynamics so you had no clue what he could be. They discussed for a minute, letting you the opportunity to recompose yourself. The contact you had with the wolf had shaken you a bit harder than it should have. Jimin turned towards you. « Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. -No it's me. Sorry. » He bowed down a little before leaving you alone with Jaehyun. You could not stand watch him go away so you kept your eyes on your feet. « Are you okay Y/n ? -Yeah I am fine ! I am going to return home, I am a bit tired -No problem, let me walk you to your car » You let him do, not really feeling like being alone right now. Jimin just wanted to give back some books. He was already two weeks late, and he didn't want to own even more money to the university library. He had a pretty shitty day after the pretty girl from his first class ran away. He kept thinking that maybe it was his fault, she saw him looking and got scared and just ran away. He kept scolding himself, that it should not be this important. But it was. He was entering the library, sighting from exhaustion, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders, not looking where he was going. He felt the collision reacting just in time to avoid the other person to fall. He grabbed their arm, helping them to stabilize. The electric current that started through his body at this moment was something he never experienced before. He looked up surprised, his heart beatting incredibly fast. It was the girl from before. The one who ran away from him this morning. She was prettier than he had imagined. Freeking beautiful. Her scent was sweet and the moment he smelt it, it sended his wolf in a frenzie. That wasn't normal. It never happened before and it wasn't supposed to happen. He let go of her arm as fast as he could, his wolf crying inside, but his heart finally slowed down. « Hey Jimin. » It was Jaehyun, they were in some class together. They were not really friend, but he was genially a good guy. « Oh Jaehyun I didn't see you. -Yeah, it's been a while. How have you been? » Jimin didn't want to have a discussion right now. « Well you know. Midterms had been kicking my ass. -Yeah everyone can relate to this. The girl was clenching her hand on her shirt, avoiding his eyes as much as she could. Could it be possible that she was feeling it too ? « Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going » he said trying to make her look at him. « No it's me. Sorry. » She finally looked at him and Jimin stopped breathing again. If he was going to have this reaction every time she was around it was going to be difficult. He bowed down cutting off the visual contact and left. He needed to leave. « Are you okay Y/n ? -Yeah I am fine ! I am going to return home, I am a bit tired -No problem, let me walk you to your car » His heart clenched as he was walking toward the library main desk, getting away from her more and more. You arrived at home after a long bus ride. Jaehyun has been shocked when you told him you didn't have a car. Apparently every student had a car. You really should get your driving license, the thing was that you had no idea how to drive and had to learn absolutely everything. Were you really that motivated ? Not really. You lived in a small apartment not far away from Nari's home, her father wanting you to be close. The only thing that you hated was the seven floor you had to climb all those stairs when the elevator was out of order like tonight. You didn't felt anything until it hit you. A wave of magic, powerful magic. You started running up the stairs hoping to meet the source of that power. But when you arrived at your apartment door, at the last floor, breathless and sweaty, there was nothing. You sometime wished to have super senses like sens of smell. It was so useful to detect anyone even when you couldn't see. You opened the door of your apartment. Nobody was there. « You’re crazy ». The fact that was that you never really were used to loneliness. Growing up in a coven meant never being alone. You enjoyed solitude, at first. Now it was more ponderous than anything. You still had no friends tho, and had no idea how you were supposed to do that. You apartment was small, like every student apartment. You had been very lucky than the pack authorized you to stay here alone. At first, you were scared you had to stay recluse in the pack house. Not that you were not comfortable with wolves but you were really not. You chase that idea from your head before it caused you more anxiety. You decided to go to bed early, not wanting to stay awake more. The only serenity you could feel was when you were sleeping and then lately even in your dreams it was almost impossible to find peace. And this night didn't do any exception. If you had not found any rest those past few days it was because of a dream. The exact same dream every night. You were condemned to relive the night you ran away from your home. A thud echoed in your entire house, no one seemed to care. You had staid awake to finish studying. Everyone was asleep. Except they weren't. Even if you knew what was going to happen, it was still the same feeling. Fear, devastating sadness. But everything happened so fast, and everything you can feel now is the sensation of the fire, fire everywhere. Flames were licking the wall of your house, blocking your way to the stairs. Maybe it was seeing the dead body of your parents again and again that was starting to be difficult. The same feeling was creeping in your body. Even if you knew what you were gonna see, tears were still streaming down your cheeks. Your body was frozen even if all you wanted was to run. But the thing with those dreams were that you were bounded to do the exact same things than that night. This is where your body started to move. You ran to your room, and like every other time you trip over something and you fell near your bed. A feeling of panic invaded you again, and your moves to crawl in direction of the window. You knew you were about to jump out the window but it didn't make it easier. You were paralyzed as you arrived in front of it. But the hubbub of the fire behind you was the best motivation. Jumping off a window was not the most pleasant thing you did but the more you were thinking about it and the more you though it was better than being burned alive. It took you a second to refined your breath. Your head was pounding, your back was so painful that it took you several turns to get up. The howl of what you could only identify as dogs motivated you to get up. Running in the woods was more difficult each time. You were not running fast enough but it was not like you could hear anything. The sound of your own breath and heart was making you almost deaf. Paranoia was running high in your blood. Every sound, creak, was making you jolt. You stopped after a while running was useless at this point. Knowing what was going to happen was somehow worse than being ignorant. The impact was more violent this time. You fall down hard on your side, rolling on your side from the force. Your vision was blurry but you succeed into gathering all your strength to roll on your side, it was maybe not the best idea when you started to roll down a hill. A growl was heard behind you and you told yourself that you preferred to throw yourself in a bunch of blackberries than being found by what was hunting you. You lost consciousness for a bit and you were expecting to wake up but you didn't. When you open your eyes you still were in the middle of the forest. The moon was shining high above you, the face of the boy that was leaning above you. You were unable to see him properly. Your eyes were like a camera out of focus. « Are you okay ? » His voice was like velvet. « I-I don't- -Shhh don't talk... They might hear us. » You were starting to recover your senses. The face of the man becoming more and more visible. He was the most beautiful man you ever laid your eyes on. Blond hair falling on his forehead. Soft brown eyes that were looking at you with care and worries. Suddenly it hit you. « You- -Don't move ! » He touched your arm and everything snapped. You woke up in your bed a strange feeling lingering in your body. You were sweating as if you really just run through a forest. It was strange, normally you would just woke up normally, a bit confused. It was totally different this time. Your side was hurting, your breath was shallow, the skin on your arm where the man touched you was strangely warm. You stood up, your head was spinning and you fell on the floor. Your cheek hit the wood floor as a gasp of pain escaped you. There was something wrong. You got up fast almost tripping again. Switching up the light of your bathroom, you watched yourself in the mirror. The scratch on your arms, ans cheeks was no due to your clumsiness. You lift up your shirt and there were red marks all over your skin. You could cry right now. You didn't know what was happening. It was scary. But what could you do. Maybe you should talk to Nari. Or maybe it was nothing. You should just go to sleep.

Jimin felt like shit today. He didn't sleep well, and after the weird dream he did it was impossible for him to sleep again. His class was going to be a nightmare. It was the first time he did a dream that vivid. He often dreamed about running in the woods, generally when the full moon was coming closer and when he didn’t go for a run with his pack for a while. But this one was different. He opened his eyes, and he was not in his room anymore. Everything seemed so real that he really thought he slept walk into the forest. But he heard a scream, and it was stronger than his will, he had to go see who it was, what was happening. He run as fast as he could, and he arrived very quickly in the middle of a meadow. This is when he heard the growls. Other wolves ? He could not tell, but he knew dip down he was in danger. Someone was lying there, asleep. Or maybe they were dead. He could not smell anything. It was a girl, he could not see her face, but she seemed familiar. She slowly turned her head toward him. He gasped at the injury he could see on the side of her face. He wanted to touch her but at the moment he extended his arm toward her face she looked at him. « Are you okay ? » She seemed confused, her eyes blinking uncontrollably, as she had trouble to see. « I-I don't- -Shhh don't talk... They might hear us. » She was starting to move more, and seemed more aware of what was happening around her. They had to leave if something was coming their way. They could not stay there. But she was hurt and it was probably dangerous to move her around. « You- -Don't move ! » He touched her arm and everything snapped. Now he was in class, and he could not take the girl of his dream out of his mind. Even more when she was probably going to be here today.

[irondadgroupie]

Bohemian Rhapsody: Chapter 5

We want to pretend like the week-long hiatus was planned @intoresus but honestly, we would be lying :D First was Easter and- you know what we are talking about. 

When May Parker received the call, it had been a bad sign from the very beginning. There weren’t many people that would call her during work. The number wasn’t Peter’s, so it couldn’t be him telling her he was inviting Ned over - or staying for another night at the Stark Tower. It was a stranger talking on the other end of the line, calmly but urgently. He refused to tell what had happened, or why she was asked to come in the first place, just repeated he’d send a driver to pick her up and bring her to the compound.

There she was now, in the back of a small limousine - a little extravagant, as was everything coming from Tony Stark, but at least she was getting where she needed to be and had a little more time to try and reach Peter. A part of her knew he wouldn’t pick up, but the bigger, more optimistic part was always expecting to hear his voice at the other end of the line, or a new message, but nothing. The last one was from eleven this morning:

Dishes are washed. Mr Stark’s picking me up for lunch in a few. Be back tomorrow.  

May didn’t exactly dislike Tony, but she wasn’t entirely warming up to him either. She knew he was trying to be supportive, and that Peter had lightened up since Stark had walked into his life. However, she questioned his behavior. What did Tony Stark want? It was a question that didn’t let her go. He appeared as if he really cared for her kid, but so had other people in Peter’s life - people who had ended up using him, in the truest sense of that word. May still felt sick thinking about it. Who was telling her that this was about Peter and not about Iron Man needing a side-kick superhero? Or about having the kid work on some ideas Tony could present as his own in the future?  

As far as she’d heard – the man wasn’t exactly a hermit - it wouldn’t have been the first time. Back in 2002, there had been a heavy accusation of Stark stealing an idea for using concepts that were rumored not to be his. The case was dropped two years later due to the lack of evidence, but with the amount of Tony Stark’s wealth, he might’ve just bribed the entire court. Peter could spend a day talking non-stop about how the man had changed over the course of the past few years, but May couldn’t shake off her doubts. No one could make a 180 change after being an arrogant and eccentric millionaire for half of his life. Peter had a general tendency to trust people too quickly and too easily, believing in the good in everyone, no matter if they deserved it or not. The fact that he’d worshipped Tony Stark for most of his life didn’t help with that either. That’s what was getting her anxious about the two of them spending so much time together: If it were really about Stark’s intention to exploit her boy, it would be easy for him, and Peter probably wouldn’t even realize anything until it was already too late.

Twenty unlucky calls later they reached their destination, and May was guided inside the building.

“Mrs Parker?” She heard it before she saw it, her worst fears coming true. The woman in front of her her was wearing scrubs. She was a medic.

“Yes,” May answered tonelessly. “I’m here for my nephew, Peter.”

“Sure. Follow me, please.” The worst part about the entire situation was that May had been working in the medical field for long enough to recognize patterns. They guided her away from the main area, because the news wouldn’t be good. Because they wanted her to have a private room, a place to sit down before they’d fill her in. And that was exactly what was happening.

“I have to inform you that your nephew has been involved in an animal-vehicle crash earlier this afternoon.”  

May heard the words, but their meaning didn’t put itself together. As if she was trapped in a nightmare. Getting the gist of a situation, nothing more. “He’s receiving the best medical care in this facility, I assure you.” Yet another typical sentence. Nothing with vital information.  

May needed it. Needed some information, at least whether or not Peter was alright.

“How is he?”  

The shuffle. A second offer for a glass of water. Again, May shook her head.

“He’s suffered something we call a hypothermia, which is factually a lowered body temperature, alongside a concussion and a splenic trauma. His vitals are stable at the moment. However, I am obligated to inform you that the severity of his injuries had caused a cardiac arrest. We managed to take control of it rather quickly, but Peter has unfortunately slipped into a coma.”

The universe around May Parker didn’t exist anymore. She’d heard all those words before. Screamed along hospital hallways, whispered between some doctors. All of them had a meaning that she was well aware of. The medic offered her sincerest apologies and suggested she’d bring her to Peter’s room whenever she felt ready but May ignored her. She wasn’t ready.

Barely a few years ago she had lost her husband.

And now they wanted to tell her that she almost lost her nephew by the skin of his teeth?

No. This had to be a nightmare, a very, very cruel nightmare.

Peter was at home, with Ned, building Lego sets.

In Stark’s lab, working on some secret inventions.

Maybe outside, as Spider-Man, saving ‘the little people’.

Safe.

Not in the ICU of a high-class medical facility.  

She barely listened to the explanation of how it had come to the crash in the first place. The only informations she tried to keep in her mind was how the current prognosis and future treatment looked like. “Tests came back promising, and we assume that his healing factor will continue to have a positive effect. However, we can’t yet tell when he’s going to wake up.”  

Her vision blurred by tears that refused to fall and the pain was so awful it literally made her feel hollow, as if she was helplessly sinking into quicksand.

Episodes of sadness had been a constant companion ever since Ben’s death, and usually Peter was helping her out. That’s what they always did: Cheering each other up - balancing each other out. But now? Now Peter couldn’t. Now it was on her alone.

They were about to explain her that he was currently still ventilated, due to his lungs needing to recover from the effects of drowning, when they entered the room.

Her first glance didn’t meet Peter - she doubted she would’ve recognized him under the thick blankets and with the countless wires covering him. But maybe it would’ve been good if that’s the first she saw. It would’ve anchored her.

Instead, the first thing she saw beyond the waterfall in her eyes was Tony Stark - One hand in her nephew’s hair, the other resting on his chest, mumbling something she didn’t comprehend. The first thing she saw was him.

The man who’d driven the car Peter got hurt in.

In that moment, he wasn’t Tony Stark anymore. Not Peter’s hero, not the man who’d rescued him after the crash.

He was the enemy.

“You-“ You did this. But the words didn’t leave her mouth, this cruelty was tying her tongue. She saw Tony looking up in what she believed to be shock and surprise.

“May- I'm sorry-“  

“No. Don’t you dare attempt to apologize. This - you did this!”

“May,” Pepper stepped forward and tried to grasp the woman's arm in comfort. “We are all upset and shocked about this. How about you sit down, I'll get you tea-“

“No, no tea can solve this! You people caused this! It was your car he was in and you were driving,” She screamed at Tony. Tears spilled from her eyes and her face was read with rage. “You promised to take care of him and you broke it! Why? Because he had that good idea before you and you needed him out of the picture?”

“What?” Tony whispered and his shock and resentment flushed away to disbelief. “- I saved him! That doesn't make any sense!”

“What do I know about you rich people? Intern in coma sounds better than a dead one.”

Tony opened his mouth and closed it in the same instant, his chest suddenly feeling way too tight to speak, or even move. Somewhere outside of his mind, Pepper was asking him to calm down in a tone as worried as he’d never heard it before - which was huge, given the condition the woman had seen him in already, physically and mentally. But on the inside, there were only two things repeating themselves, one after another.

Peter could be dead.

You did this.

“May, you need to be careful. Tony is also healing. He can't take much emotional stress or his heart-“ Pepper told as she helped her husband to the bed. He wasn’t fighting her, and Pepper realized that she hated this more than him arguing with her. It meant that May’s words, spoken in terrible grief, had left an invisible, but no less painful scar in Tony’s heart.

“Yeah, that can be easily arranged,” May sniffed. “I want you out.”

“What?” Tony whispered, eyes wide.

“Both of you, out. I don't want you anywhere near Peter or me. Only family is allowed and you are certainly not family. Leave us alone or I swear to God I am taking this to the court.”

“A lawsuit? She can’t be serious about that. What’d be the charges? Saving her nephew from drowning? We’re in America, not China, or the middle-ages.”  

Pepper kept her voice quiet only to avoid catching another deprecating glare from one of the night nurses. She and Rhodey stood outside Tony’s room in the long hallway. Although being on the possibly highest dose of non-anesthetic sedatives possible, Tony was in a light sleep, and Pepper did in no way intend to unnecessarily wake him. He needed rest, his heart and mind a break from conscious thinking. It had been hard enough to see how much the man had been suffering after May had insisted on him leaving. Doctors from both sides had tried to smooth down the conflict - arguing that it would be beneficial to both Tony and Peter’s conditions to not separate them, but May hadn’t listened. And with her being the boy’s legal guardian, there was nothing they could do about it.  

Tony had been devastated, in a way that Pepper had never seen him. He’d been crying, unresisted, the entire way back, and even after they’d shot him the sedatives to lower the risk of a further arrhythmia, he’d still mumbled “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry” until he finally fell asleep.

“She’s in shock.” Rhodey reasoned, and Pepper frowned at him in return.

“As is Tony. We all are. Hell, I certainly am.” Curses weren’t exactly in her typical daily word-repertoire, but this certainly wasn’t a typical day. “Gives her no reason to lash out at us that way. Her behavior could’ve caused Tony a heart attack and god knows I would’ve gone to court if that happened.”

“Pep.” Rhodey sighed. “She’s raised the boy.”  

He almost made a step backwards at the ice in Pepper’s eyes when she looked at him. “I’m not saying I understand what she did, I’m just -“ He massaged his temple. The day had been nerve-wracking and horrible, and he was slowly feeling the pay-off. “Just imagine it’d be your kid in there. You, I, we all know Tony the way he is. We’ve seen him grow over the years, we have seen evidence enough that he isn’t the 00’s Tony Stark anymore. He proves that to us every minute of every day.

“For May... For May he’s the man that everyone’s talking about. America’s most criticized person. Everyone who owns a functional TV has heard of him, and the media doesn’t have a reputation of showing people at their best. For May, he’s the billionaire superhero that supports her son fighting crime at night. She has no idea who he really is or how much he really cares. He’s honestly just that guy in the driver’s seat for her, but it’s her son that’s caught the worst of this crash, and she needs someone to blame, because otherwise, all of that might be too cruel to handle.”

Pepper did not answer, but the words stuck with her. After all, Rhodey might be right. From the outside perspective, with just the media as a source of information, she probably wouldn’t trust Tony either, no matter how hard it was to imagine that. To imagine that no one saw her Tony as the gentle, loving human being that he was.

“You’re staying with Tony till morning? I’ll leave her for the night, and hope she’s a little more at ease tomorrow. We can help her through this.”  

And Tony’s going to break if she refuses to let him see Peter for longer than a day.

Tony woke up in the middle of the night, feeling like someone had smashed a building right on top of him. He needed a while to recognize his surroundings, and to scan his memory for the reason for his pain. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn’t.

The worst seconds after trauma weren’t those when you’re confused about what’s been happening, but the flashes of minutes - hours even - burning themselves through your mind all at once.

His movie had an injured Peter as the main protagonist, and May’s angry voice as soundtrack. Her accusations stung. They stung, because after all, he’d thought that May would know him better than that.  

The story she was referring to had happened years ago.  

Some “upcoming star technician”, that had just started his small independent business, had denounced him because some of the blue-prints that Tony had used for filing a patent for his latest invention looked similar to his. It had become a top story; people believed it to be more realistic that a billionaire would steal ideas rather than a small company would use the indictment to sneak themselves some money and attention.

It wasn’t just that Tony’s ego was far too big to ever steal someone’s idea to enrich himself.  

He could never do something like that to Peter.

The project the kid had been working on every time he’d been in the lab for the past couple of months had grown into something solid. There were still some edges on it that’d need fine tuning and Tony had gladly volunteered to help fix those, but this would always be Peter’s invention entirely, his baby and he would make sure that he’d get all the well- deserved credit for it.  

He wouldn’t take that achievement away from the kid.

And he certainly wouldn’t cause a crash to... he couldn’t even finish the thought without feeling sick. His breathing would’ve quickened along with his heart-rate under normal circumstances, but with the amount of anti-arrhythmias rushing through his system, his body seemed to be stuck in its rhythm.  

That didn’t make the idea any less hurtful. The image of how different the day could’ve ended for both of them. A world without Peter Parker would be a gruesome world, without light or colors or sounds, just a hollow emptiness. That’s what Tony had almost pictured hell like: A hollow place.

Sleeping had become impossible now. If he’d close his eyes, he would always see the picture of Peter’s lifeless, pale body in front of him. But staring in the darkness didn’t help the awful feeling either.

Rhodey was sitting in the armchair next to his bed, head hanging on his shoulder, snoring lightly.  

For a moment, Tony considered waking him, aware that Rhodey would definitely be mad if he didn’t do it, but he had no intention to have the following conversation about how he felt, or that he should rest and not worry.

He turned his head to the other side, searching for the access button they’d given him that’d give him a light dose of painkillers if his pain became unbearable, but his eyes met something else: a metallic object glistening in the moonlight shining throught the window.

Oh please, let it be.

It was indeed his StarkPad, and Tony suddenly relaxed. This was better than painkillers. This would keep his mind busy enough for a while not to be sucked in the downward spiral of anxiety.

His arms moved sluggishly, and for a moment he feared he’d drop the Pad, but he managed to settle it quietly onto his lap.

A memo turned up.

You should really sleep, Tony.

But I love you, and I know you won’t, so take it easy right now.

Tony let out a breath and smiled weakly. Pepper had put up shortcuts to all his favorite music tracks and some brain-melting arcade games. However, Tony had other intentions. He couldn’t find it in himself to allow the distraction of playing simple mobile games - worse enough that Peter had infected him with that BlockMastery hype a few weeks ago - and music was the last thing he needed right now. He doubted he could ever listen to a rock song again. Not with one of them being so closely associated with this day.

No. He needed to do something else.

The ObserverSystem refused his command.

Access denied It reported, and Tony already frowned, checking the command protocols until he found the error: A foreign protocol called “Recover & Rest” that blocked all functions aside from games, music and video-platforms. Pepper knew him to well. But she should’ve known that this wasn’t keeping him from doing what he had to.

//Override. 496e76656e746f72 He typed, and the protocol was immediately turned off. The next burden didn’t come as a surprise, and the needed code was easier to type.

//Override. 50726f746563746f72

The system needed a few seconds before the medical database was fully loaded. After that, it was a matter of seconds to get the access to Peter’s data and connect himself to the kid’s vital monitors. Audio output was still turned off, and for almost a minute Tony just appreciated the wonderfully rhythmical spikes on screen and the ease that came with not having to wait for the sound underlying one of them.  

He changed audio delivery to his headphones and the rhythmic beeps audible were more calming than even the best movie soundtrack could ever be, because each of them meant that Peter’s heart had made another beat, each of them meant that for now, his kid was alright.  

It was the soundtrack that guided him to sleep.

[writing-the-end]

Chapter 34- Masked Marauders

Previous Chapter

Once again, this was all written during the first week or two of hermitcraft season 7, so none of these mega bases of the jungle hermits have been built, and unfortunately Ren hadn’t moved into the mesa yet. If he had, I’d definitely put him in since i know Ecto loves Ren! 

Speaking of Ecto, have a wee bit of Ecto angst. I feel the need to say, mostly to ease my own anxiety, that in no way to I believe any of this that I write- this is all part of the story and exclusively their minesona. Ecto is an amazing and awesome person that deserves love and good friends, and I hope none of this causes issues. But I also know we all love angst here. 

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block   (sorry the ‘at’ system won’t show up your current one)

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland​

This isn’t the first time Ecto has gotten lost on her own. Suddenly losing sight of Scar and the others didn’t bother her. She just kept going in the direction that they were before, following the sun towards the northwest. Just like she would in her desert.

Her home. What was her home. Has the blizzard stopped? How deep is everything she ever loved, everything she ever lived for, buried? How much has survived? The desert had been Ecto’s home her whole life. It was a place for surviving, a land so different from anywhere else. Where no trees grew, where dunes replaced hills and sand replaced dirt. It was a unique place for a unique person. A person that didn’t fit in other places, that people always thought of as strange. 

Through the dense leaves, Ecto hears a noise. It sounds like a zombie, but higher pitched. A baby zombie? Those little things are fast, ankle biters with a vengeance from beyond the grave. Ecto pulls out her sword, sunlight reflecting off the enchanted iron blade in speckles that shafted through the dense canopy. The groaning is getting closer, but it’s not the only noise out there. 

She also hears a soft hush, and a chuckle being swallowed back down. She’s really started to hate this feeling, of being watched all the time. The next grumble of the high pitched zombie noise, Ecto takes off towards it. She’s done sitting and being spied on. “Face me you coward!” 

Ecto bursts through the greenery, wielding her sword to fight off the zombie. Instead, her entire body near escapes the pull of gravity when she’s the one surprised instead. A massive bird, with a yellow feathered face and red plumage jumps back at her. “Pesky bird!” 

Another, much smaller blue parrot echos the larger one, before returning to the zombie noises it’s been mimicking. Once Ecto has regained her sense of sanity, she realizes that she’s not looking at two birds. She’s looking at one bird and a human with a bird mask, blonde hair peeking out from behind the yellow and grey. While the two birds are giggling at their jumpscare, Ecto recognizes that voice. “Grian?” 

Grian pulls up his mask, wiping away the tears at his eyes. He’s embraced the Jungle Bandit lifestyle, using leaves, flowers, and feathers to make a more practical version of his hippie attire. He’s a part of the jungle, swinging from vines and foraging from the land. At least until he gets started on his first megabuild. “Ecto, is that you? What are you guys doin’ back so soon?” 

“I lost Scar.” Ecto pulls herself up from the ground, wincing as her wound stretches against the movement of her body. Blu got her good, but she’s not going to let any of her aches stop her. Scar’s bandages definitely are helping hold her together. What she wouldn’t give for some cactus to chew on though. 

“Ah, yeah this jungle is really confusing. A whole new world is confusing, period.” Grian sets his mask to the side. “So how did everything go once you guys got back to your world? Did you get to that stronghold you were looking for?” 

“Yeah, we got there. But everything went downhill from there.” Ecto groans, thinking off all the horrible things that have happened. This journey should have ended when they reached Avon’s stronghold. Instead, the worst part just began. “Most of us don’t have a home to go back to anymore. We’ve just been...walking.” 

“Wandering.” Grian hums, noting the forlorn note in Ecto’s voice. He doesn’t want to push her for more information. It sounds like it’s painful just to think about. A fresh wound, physically and emotionally. Grian isn’t very good with sad emotions, but there is something he is good at. Getting people to smile, to feel joy. And he remembers Ecto’s spunky attitude from Area 77. “Hey, do you want to help me prank some of the other hermits? I have some plans but I really need a second hand to help me out.” 

A mischievous glimmer sparks in Ecto’s eyes and soul. “You want me to help you get into trouble?” 

“I want to have fun. And there’s no harm in a little bit of trouble if it’s all good natured fun, right?” Grian picks up his mask, and even offers Ecto one as well. Green, like a cactus. 

And the jungle bandit had a partner in crime. Two pesky birds- and Professor Beak- flitted through the jungle, clambering over low trees and high vines. They return to the small pond that Grian and Scar share. Scar isn’t home, which is exactly what the two were hoping for. Larry already had his mustache, but with two cheeky minds put together he soon also grew a pair of arms to twist said stache. They flee as soon as the job is done, and the snail has gone through a sudden evolution to gain hands. 

Throughout the jungle, the two leave odd signs and statues. Roses growing from trees, markers pointing to nowhere, trees left completely bald. At one point, the two run across a strange structure in the woods. Stone and jungle wood ring the cultic center, where two fires burn at a steady, endless pace. “I have no clue what this is, and I’m afraid we may be snooping around something we shouldn’t be.” 

“You people sure like your cult initiations.” Ecto muses, before escaping the strange altar in the middle of the forest. 

With Scar already well pranked, Grian had to turn his attention to one of the many other inhabitants of the forest. The jungle bandit would strike everyone- even those he just learned are his neighbors. The pair manage to find their way to Stress’s base, devilish grins and cocky giggles reaching through the masks as they near. Professor Beak imitates them, laughing as well. 

“Oh, carrots. Don’t mind if I do.” Grian pulls up the crop, ready to be harvested. He chuckles to himself as he plants one back into the warm, moist soil. “Pesky bird. That’s why you always harvest your crop.” 

“Do husks appear in jungles as well?” Ecto questions through a mouthful of cocoa beans. She only ever had these a few times before, the sweet chocolate melting in her mouth. Grian looks over, surprised to see the tan colored zombie floating his way towards the two.

“No...he must’ve wandered into the jungle from the nearby mesa.” Grian starts to get an idea as he watches the hapless creature, so slow in the water.

Ecto perks up. Mesas mean one thing to her- cacti. “There’s a mesa nearby?” 

Ecto’s already wading through the shallow water, despite not knowing where exactly it is. “Whoa, hold up. Let’s put this lost guy to good use. Then we can check out the Mesa.” 

Grian and Ecto manage to wrangle in the lost husk. Ecto has had years of practice toying with the mindless mummies, and kiting this one was no different. Except instead of baiting it into a cactus trap, she brought it into a lead held by Grian. Together, the two drag the husk into the depths of Stress’s base. 

Grian has more of an idea what to do from there, and the husk as well as Ecto just observe him with open mouths and empty eyes. The husk can’t even think, but Ecto’s thinking about the mesa. It’s not a desert, but it’s close enough. She can’t wait to escape this humid, dense forest. She’s used to being hot, but not this sticky kind of hot. 

Grian steps back, hauling the husk into a hole and silencing him. And right above the husk, Ecto places down Stress’s magenta colored bed. “What is the point of this?” 

“You know how hard it is to sleep with monsters around.” Ecto frowns, but Grian just continues. She has no trouble sleeping with monsters, she’s used to them at this point. “It’s simple, but it’ll definitely frustrate Stress- I can practically hear her grumbling about it now.” 

“Can we go to the mesa?” Ecto isn’t really interested in pranking anymore. It was fun, and Grian is fun, but she wants to see the mesa. The closest thing to her home she’ll have seen since the blizzard. 

Grian catches on, realizing that this is more than just an impatient friend. Ecto tries to keep a face of indifference, but every time she turns away, he can see it. Sadness. Loss. A desire to go somewhere she can’t find. When she thinks he’s not looking, he can see her smile disappear, especially from her eyes. She’s mourning something. “Let’s go to the mesa. I think we’ve had our fun here.” 

The bandits flee the scene of their crime, Grian guiding Ecto eastward, to the mesa. But it’s not long until Ecto is stumbling past him. She can smell the arid land from here. It’s earthy and warm, with a crisp scent of sand and dust. It cuts through the rich scent of detritus the jungle traps in among the humidity, calling her. 

Ecto escapes the clutches of the vines and trees, busting out into the sandy mesa next door. She leaps from a tree branch, rolling across the sand as she lands. The grains stick to her clothes and skin, embracing her with their warmth from the unobstructed sun. Ecto digs her fingers into the orange sand, watching the broken rocks fall between her fingers as she holds them up. Sand has never been such a welcome sight. 

She remembers what can only grow from sand, and snaps her head up. Mesas don’t seem to grow cacti as fervently as deserts do, but she can see a few growing on a mound of sand in the distance. 

Grian isn’t sure he’s ever seen someone so happy to see a mesa biome, or even a cactus. He’s grown so tired of all the cactus his farm has been producing, he’s drowning in the spiny plant. Ecto returns to him, bouncing in her boots and holding one out. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to have them. I forgot how sweet cactus juice is.” 

“You actually eat that stuff?” Grian questions, taking the piece that Ecto is offering him.

“It’s the easiest way to get water in the desert.” Ecto takes a look at the few cacti she was able to acquire. They’re in rough shape, with brown blemishes and weak spines. She’s not sure if they’d even be able to hold her weight at this point. She turns her gaze to the horizon, but she doesn’t see any more cacti. Either they haven’t grown, or they’ve already been taken by other hermits. 

Grian’s quick to notice what Ecto is looking at, looking for. “I have cactus at my hobbit hole. Actually, I have more cactus that I know what to do with. Do you want some of it?” 

The joyful smile all across Ecto’s face is all he needs to see. It warms him to see someone so happy over something so simple. To give joy to a friend, to another person is all Grian wants to do. He tells Ecto to wait, and go jogging back into the jungle. He’s faster at climbing through the jungle than her, and it’ll be a pleasant surprise when he returns with his bounty. At his home, Grian digs through every chest in his cactus farm, pulling the collected material before it can be put into compost. He’s stuffing the succulents into every pocket and pouch he can find in his new hobbit threads, even tossing aside his tools and supplies to make more room. At this point it’s as much about getting rid of all his overflowing cacti as it is making Ecto happy. 

Ecto hears Grian swearing before she sees him. Mostly because she was looking for his blond hair, but all of him was hidden behind an entire armful of cacti. So much cacti, Ecto isn’t sure if she’s seen that much at one moment. His clothes are stretching with the weight of the plant, and each one is precariously stacked on top of the others in his arms. Even Professor Beak is carrying his weight in cacti. “What do you even plan to do with all this? I mean, I’m not complaining. It freed up so much storage for me, but I’m curious.” 

“I’m going to jumpstack!” Ecto cheers, taking as many cacti as she can hold and starting her tower. She didn’t get to do this in the last hermit world, so this feels especially exciting. Building her monolith in a completely different world. Not just another dimension, another world. She’s careful to position her feet under her, in between the spines before hopping. While there is space between her and the cactus, she places another one. She lands perfectly so that the needles just barely scrape her shoes, feet light as a dancer’s. 

As Ecto stacks higher, Grian can only watch as she’s shadowed by the sun, dropping and blinding him until she’s reached beyond the sun’s rays. It’s not until Ecto has run out of cacti that he realizes she has no way to get down. She has no elytra, nothing. 

And yet, she jumps. Ecto has become a pro of surviving falls that would normally kill other humans. She doesn’t need fancy wings or magic.  She sees Grian scrambling across the sand below, but she tucks into a tight ball and rolls across the sand as she hits. It’s jarring, but it doesn’t kill her. Even though it’s still sunset, Ecto swears she can see stars. Apart from that, she’s still gaining control back when she hears Grian. “What was that?!” 

“I needed to get down.” Ecto hums, standing up with a sway and brushing the sand off her scarves. 

“What about using water? Or scaffolding? There are better ways, Ecto!” Grian grabs her by the shoulders, still shocked by such a ridiculous stunt. He hasn’t seen anyone so willing to defy death since Cub during Demise. And even he eventually lost that battle.

“Water is hard to find in the desert. And why build more than necessary? Look, I’m fine, and this is the most direct way.” Ecto’s face pinches up at the suggestion. She shrugs Grian’s grip off of her shoulders, turning around and looking back up at her art. One monolith stands tall above the jungle trees, spines scraping at the untouched sky. Her build may be the tallest yet. 

Grian can only chuckle, shaking his head and shaking away the nerves. “You’re quite the weird person, Ecto.” 

Weird. Ecto knows that she’s different. She thinks different, acts different from the normal. She’s decided that she won’t change. . It’s a flaw she can’t erase. And people abandon her for that. Disregard her, turn on her. But what about Grian? He is strange like me, but his friends still stick around. Why do they all leave me? Why does he stay around even now?