#and then it kinda lost me when the explanations got too complicated

[museofvoid]

just finished watching 1899 and i did really enjoy it in the beginning, but not sure i like where it ended.... not saying it was bad necessarily, i just don’t care for that kind of story

[suemooon]

Origins of the Oncest ship: the history

Travelling in The Once-ler's fandom history | by suemooon

Welcome Oncelings!

to one of my most serious researchers I have ever done before, now, here’s a little explanation:

I wanted to make a fandom analysis using old posts, the way back machine, and other stuff to try to compare the once-ler fandom in its golden age and now, trying to suppose how it was and trying to see what happened there, but it would be later. Because I got a really interesting capture that I got while I was checking the Oncest tag in the wayback machine, and I got this:

IT QUICKLY GOT MY ATTENTION

Someone saying that they were the first ones to show the Oncest ship term.

I wanted to see if it was real and not a joke or something like that, so I copied the url of the tumblr and desired that the blog is still up, and I got it!!!

I explored their tumblr for a little while, and I noticed another thing, there’s a bunch of photos of the once-ler BEFORE the movie of the Lorax came out, this of course means that ye, there was some people who found the once-ler attractive and begun to share his pictures in tumblr (without any tag, if it wasn’t the help of this blog and some other ones, I probably couldn’t got them).

This makes a lot more sense than saying that the once-ler fandom was born after the came out of the movie I can say.

Those pictures belongs to all the Lorax trailers, in which ONLY appears the gray once-ler, not greedler. So we can say that the people who find him attractive in the beginning, the greedler was like a kind of “plot twist”

But the topic of the whole fandom will be for my another analysis, now let’s try to focus on Oncest.

2. Possible date of apparition

In my research, it seems that Oncest was born between 19th March, 2012, but where did I took this supposition?

Checking the dates between their first Oncest mentions (and also checking other old inactive once-ler’s blogs), there’s some important dates to make a highlight.

link to post: https://theambernerd.tumblr.com/post/19771248254/thank-you-all-you-lovely-people-for-following-me

In this screenshot, someone responds that this pairing has a name, this is from March 22, 2012, so the ship already existed and had a name too, so let’s check out the other blogs and their archives.

temporarilycheating

squidmama

Suddenly we see Oncest fanart.

The dates are between 19th and later, is this the origin of the ship?

Of course this is just a supposition, I had to see it at that time to prove it, but it’s not the case. All I can do is make suppositions.

You can take it as something true or fake, that’s your opinion.

3. Who was the original person who brought up with the Oncest idea?

This one was one of the most complicated things that you can try to research, we are talking about something that is 11 years old, so some pretty amount of information got lost with the time.

In words of temporarilycheating.

IT’S CALLED ONCEST BECAUSE I SAID SO! Lol but really…actually, I’m kinda the one who came up with the name in the first place… The pairing existed, but I think it was originally called twincest or something… But anyhow, in month one of the fandom, back when Sirsteeve made some of the first oncest fanart the fandom went CRAZY over the idea…and so did i. So I was sitting in my living room having a feels moment over this new OTP…but since the fandom didn’t really have a name for it, it made me think… It came to my mind that the fandom was somewhat dividing the once-ler into two seperate people of the same relation-oncie and greed-ler. To me, it sounded like incest. So I played around with that idea a bit in my head. And after saying incest repeatedly in my head I noticed the ‘ce’ in the word. I came to the conclusion to 'once’ in addition to the 'est’. thus 'oncest’. I had a fangasm and posted my idea to tumblr ASAP. Apparantly, it caught on cuz it’s still called oncest today and is widely known C: That has to be one of my greatest achievements in this fandom.

link to post: https://temporarilycheating.tumblr.com/post/25857778616/why-is-it-called-oncest

There's a small mention to someone named "Sirsteeve" who explains that were one of the firsts ones to draw Oncest.

I searched and their oldest Oncest post I found is this one.

Date: March 19th, 2012 by: sirsteeve ( hour - 5:22 PM )

So we have in our eyes one of the first Oncest post ever.

Is that the original Oncest post? I don’t know, it only says that is ONE of the first persons in the fandom who brought up the idea. Is it made by one person or a group of people? I don’t know.

Other very first posts about Oncest:

Date: March 19th, 2012 by: cartoonjunkie ( hour - 10:39 PM, 5 hours later after sirsteeve )

Date: March 20th, 2012 by: owlapin

Date: March 21st, 2012 by: rutella

4. Who gave the name of "Oncest"?

GUYS!!!! I KNOW WHAT TO CALL THE PAIRING!!!!! Y'know, once-ler/green suit once-ler!???? IT SHOULD BE CALLED ONCEST!!!! GET IT!? Its like incest, but with himself! :D WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK!? If you like the idea, reblog this to spread the word! :D

Date: March 20th, 2012

It seems it’s true, temporarilycheating was the one who created the Oncest term, we should give her more recognition for it!

link to post: https://www.tumblr.com/temporarilycheating/19650360910/guys

Conclusion

Second part? who knows. But the only thing I can say is… this one was one of my most complicated things to find, but now I got some important information. I'm here for you to share my knowledge!

I must say, I’m very proud of me for this, you guys have no idea how excited I got when I found these photos and data, maybe is not too much but I think they’re really important yet; this information forms part of our fandom history, and I think we should keep that information up and don’t lose it.

As a reminder too, as I already said once…

Oncest is like an icon for our dear Once-ler Fandom, whether we like it or not.

We can’t deny its existence, we can’t blame it, we can’t try to delete it, it always will exist as always the fandom will exist and some people like it.

And… My opinion about Oncest?

Well, I don’t hate it, I don’t love it thou, but I can like some posts about it, I can appreciate art from this ship, and it’s idea too.

Any reblog, like, and comment it's appreciated!

[thisbarbiereallylikesbirds]

The Phone Call

Shen hated a lot of things. The anti-aging industry. Smudging her makeup right before she was done. Soft boiled eggs. Just to name a few.

But just because she expressed her opinions on her long list of dislikes didn’t mean she was a completely negative person. There were plenty of things that she liked too. Like autumn, and really artistic films. Tiny ceramic cats. Vintage coats.

Her friend, Lou Jitsu, had parkoured between the two lists with all the grace of a headless chicken during the time that they’d worked together. But even at his worst, when he made her want to tear her own hair out, she’d never wanted him dead. Especially not so young.

Now she knew that he wasn’t technically dead. He was missing, having disappeared the very night he’d promised that he was finally gonna propose to his long term girlfriend, Kana. But, if she knew him (and after nearly twenty years she certainly hoped she did) he wasn’t the type to just up and vanish. Not without telling her, at least. 

For her own sanity she’d allowed herself to come to the conclusion that he had died. It was better than spending the rest of her life thinking about the alternatives. Despite her best efforts though, she could never fully extinguish the thought that he might still be out there somewhere. A small part of her still craved to know what really happened.

And one day she got her answer.

She had been working on the script for her newest movie (unsurprisingly, another short film about the horrors of aging in Hollywood) when she’d gotten the phone call.

Now, Shen liked to consider herself to be “with the times”. She knew enough about internet safety to not go about posting her location and other ridiculous things. But at her core Shen was an old lady. So despite the fact that she didn’t recognize the number, she still answered.

“Shen?” the voice asked before she’d even gotten the chance to say hello.

“Yes?”

“I-it’s me,” the voice said.

“It’s…who?” Whoever was at the other end of the line sounded vaguely familiar. But she couldn’t quite place it.

“Yoshi,” he said. “Um, Lou Jitsu.”

Shen almost hung up right then, right there.

Other people had surfaced online, claiming to be the long lost star, of course. Shen had never even considered any of them had been telling the truth. But this time, hearing his voice over the phone, Shen knew that he was telling the truth. It was him.

And she was furious.

“You’re late.”

“...Late?” Lou Jitsu asked.

“Yeah by maybe 20-ish years? You promised that you’d call me after your date was over and tell me how it went.”

“Yeah I sort of was busy—”

“I assumed you were, but days after? Weeks? You better have a good explanation.”

“I think I kinda do—” he said.

“And I don’t wanna hear it! Do you know what it’s been like without you? The waiting for you to show back up at set, the cancellation, the finding a new career. I cried over you, you jerk!”

“You did?” he said, sounding flattered.

“Yeah, obviously! I lost my best friend that day, and now you just show back up?”

“Shen?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come to New York?”

“Why would I want to come to New York?”

“I could send you a plane ticket. Or maybe you want to drive? I just figured it’d be better to try to explain everything in person.”

“Yeah, maybe it would.”

There was pause.

“So…are you gonna come?”

“Of course I am, babe, you’re not getting out of an explanation that easy.”

“Good,” he said, sounding relieved. “I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Stuff’s…boring on set sometimes.”

“What I’d give for boring sometimes.”

“Pfft, you couldn’t live with boring.”

“That’s true.”

“Speaking of, I think I’m owed an update on Kana. How’d that proposal go?”

“The proposal went fine, it was after that things got weird.”

“But you two are actually done done now?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“And I assume you want to explain it in person?”

“There are a lot of things I want to explain in person, but there’s something I should probably tell you before you come down here. Just so you aren’t surprised.”

“Nothing that you could say will surprise me, Lou.”

“Shen, I’m a rat.”

“Yeah I know.”

“No, like a real rat. I—have you seen what’s been going down in New York?”

“What, with the invasion—did, did you do that?!”

“No! Well, I was involved—we are getting off topic, I mean before that.”

“With…the mutants?”

“Yeah.”

“So…a mosquito turned you into a rat?”

“Not quite.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You know what,” he said. “Maybe this should wait until we meet up in person. Does this weekend sound good?”

“This weekend?” Shen laughed. “Babe, I’m leaving today.”

[fyodoro]

heey. Thought about a hurt and comfort kind of thing with Ena, where she and the reader have a fight because the reader is basically worried about her, don't really talk for a while and then, Ena remembers how important they are to her. She finds them in Sekai and then she goes all mushy, but in her own way. And they are dating in this case. Hope that's not too complicated! :)

-> 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

You knew Ena had her moments, but things take a turn when you express your concern..?

With Ena Shinonome, gn! Reader

Cw) swearing, arguments, kinda short im srry anon…

It wasn’t a mystery to anyone around Ena that she wasn’t the most stable. It wasn’t rare to see her curse under her breath when the smallest thing goes wrong or for her to unintentionally take her emotions out on others or objects. But even that was only on the surface.

Beneath the surface isn’t something most get to see. Of course, her brother Akito has seen it plenty of times having to live with it, occasionally her fellow group members as well. But while you get to see what goes on, you also hear the reasoning and explanations behind it. The first time you witnessed it, it made you see Ena in a different light.

She gets very frustrated easily, and her coping skills aren’t the greatest. You always worried if things would escalate if you expressed your concerns. After all, Ena doesn’t take others concerns well. But sometimes, intervention is needed.

You were over your girlfriend’s place to spend time with her. Although she was doing her own thing most the time, she was still talking to you and including you in her work. It was simple yet sweet. Of course, this didn’t last as long as you’d like.

Ena was slowly getting more and more aggravated with her drawing. Thoughts like ‘Why isn’t it good enough, I messed it up, I hate it’ coursed through her mind over and over. The only thing keeping her from snapping is the fact you’re still in the same room as her. If you weren’t, she would have lost it hours ago.

You weren’t blind nor an idiot, you noticed the way Ena’s eye twitched at every stroke of her pencil, the way her scribbles got more and more aggressive. It wasn’t obvious to the untrained eye, but it was to you.

“Ena, why don’t you try taking a break for a bit? You’re getting… y’know, again.”

She ignored you at first, your words were only muffled compared to the ringing in her head. She heard you, but she didn’t wanna give up now.

“Ena, come on. It’ll still be there after a break. Come sit down with me.”

Without realizing, she roughly stroked the pencil across the paper just enough to snap it. When the pencil snapped, so did she.

“(Name)! Shut up! I don’t need you’re help or a break, just leave me alone!”

“I’m only trying to-“

“Help? Well look at what just happened. I wouldn’t have broken the pencil or messed up the drawing if it weren’t for you! You aren’t helping at all!”

“But I thought-“

“Get out!”

You didn’t have the energy to argue with Ena now, especially so randomly. You picked up your things and have a quick “Bye” before leaving her room. It wasn’t surprising to see Akito out of his room after all the noise, but maybe a bit surprising he was even home.

You didn’t know whether to tell him what just happened, ignore him, or say bye to him as well. But no matter what you did, he was still going to say something.

“Come back in about an hour or two, maybe three. She’ll regret it in a bit, I’m sure then she’ll wanna see you again.”

“Right.. thanks.”

Akito wasn’t home enough to hear when you and Ena argue, even if it isn’t often. But when he was there, he always gave you some kind of advice. It was nice of him, but you know Ena would probably kill him if you told her.

The whole walk home Ena’s words replayed in your mind. Were you really just ruining things? Messing her up? You knew she says a lot of mean things when she’s mad, but you’ve never gotten it this bad. The possibility of truth to her words made you feel uneasy.

But like her brother said- just come back in a few hours… just a few hours. Then it’ll all be okay. Just a few hours.

There wasn’t much for you to do that could pass the time faster, especially in this situation. Everything you did made your mind wander back to Ena. Maybe you could go back a bit early? Or maybe just give her this time to cool down. All the choices led to the same result, Ena.

A bright flash from your phone brought you back from your thoughts. Since when did you have flash on? You double checked your settings just to make sure, only to come across an Untitled song. Were you even listening to a song with no title? Doesn’t it need one in order to be released?

An even brighter flash went across your screen. ‘What the hell…’

A weird feeling went across your body, the feeling of going straight down on a roller coaster. The flash burnt your eyes a bit, to the point it hurt to open them. Rubbing them a bit to put them at ease, you’re gaze stumbled upon nothing.

It was… empty? Empty, dark and cold. But despite the emptiness, there was still noise, talking noise. It was hard to tell what direction it was coming from, considering it was sameness all around. But it didn’t take you long to recognize a particular voice.

“(Name)?”

“Ena?”

“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have access to this place…”

This place? Ena was familiar with this place? Where even is it?

“This is (Name)? I was worried I’d gotten the wrong one, but looks like it’s the right one.”

Is that fucking Miku? Hatsune Miku? She looked so different… her blue hair was grey and her eyes were hetero chromic. If it weren’t for the recognizable robotic voice, you wouldn’t have guessed it was her.

“Ok, there’s… a lot of explaining to do. But can that come later? (Name)- I’m so sorry. I should have never blown up on you like that and you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her apology sounded as genuine as can be, and she already looked like she just finished crying. You’d forgiven her the moment you left her home, but now you understand why you did.

“Ena it’s okay. I knew you didn’t mean anything you said- you were just angry. I’m sorry if I was pushing you out of your comfort zone, but I was really worried about you. I just wanted you to take a break for a bit.”

“(Name)…”

She pulled you into a hug, which you gladly accepted. You were just happy Ena was feeling better. Even if it was in the strangest of places.

After all, it was just you and her against the world, even if that world is a vast void of emptiness. As long as it’s Ena, anything is fine.

[luwe21]

Favorite Sibling Ships.

This post includes Spoilers for the MCU and Umbrella Academy! Read at your own risk. This is very long, sorry.

Wilkercest. (Malcolm/Reese, Malcolm in the Middle)

I really enjoy the dynamics between the unlike siblings and I just like the teasing and pranking. Also Reese is kinda "innocent" despite being older. He has no experience with anyone because of his childish behavior.

Thorki (Thor/Loki, MCU)

They perfectly embody the two sides of a coin trope and the sunshine/darkness dynamic. Also Himbo/Nerd, Golden Retreiver/Black Cat. So many to love with so many feelings. The sun will shine on us again. I shipped Lokius for a while as the show came out but went back to Thorki after the hype stopped. I shipped Thor with Star Lord too for a while.

I am hopeful to see Thor and Loki interact again. Now that the multiverse is open. Hope is the last thing to die.

Moonsytem (Marc/Steven (Moonknight) Is this Incest? Please educate me. Or direct me to information about that.

Next is a fandom with complicated family dynamics, even more so than Thorki: Umbrella Academy aka The Hargreeves. They are 7 children out of forty-three, all born in the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989 to mothers with no previous signs of pregnancy. They were all brought here by Sir Reginal Hargreeves and live together at the Academy. They all have different superpowers and were trained to be superheroes until the public lost interest.

My ships is Fiego (Diego/Five)

This is where Himbo/Nerd comes in. Five is also old, but has a very young body. He's supposed to be in a 12-year-old body (the show doesn't really care about the age of the actor, but he's actually a minor for part of the show, he's 20 now), and his actual age in the show is well over 60. Diego is maybe 29-36. Can't really pinpoint because of a lot of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff. The show is fun (last season was terrible), but there is not much explanation. Watch the show to get the full context.

Well, Five is a bastard to everyone, but he has a big soft spot for all his siblings and is very protective. He is a trained assassin, leader of the Commission (Time Protection Service) and 100% deadly. He accidentally left the family when he was 12, he can blip through time and has spent about 60 years trying to get back to them and save them from several apocalypses. He actually saw them die and was stuck in an apocalypse as a lone survivor. He had a relationship with a mannequin. He is often classified by fans as asexual and/or aromantic. He is tired and an old guy who desperately wants to rest for five minutes.

Diego is well Diego. He is hot as hell and a hero type. His superpower is the power to manipulate thrown objects such as knives while in flight. He likes to be as epic as Batman but he is "Batman for poor people" like his sibling call him. He is the only one that continued doing "hero work" as the kids got older. He worked with Eudora Patch, a police officer and that was his first (?) girlfriend. She was killed.

In a timeline Diego tried to save JFK but was locked into a mental asylum and meet his future wife Lila Pitts. Lila is later revealed to have superpowers as well, meaning she is technically also a sibling. A lot more story but this is getting long enough.

Back to my ship. Five found all of his siblings dead, he only touched Diego, turning him around to check for signs of life and cried over his body. He also expressed his dislike for Diego's relationship with Lila and gave Lila a shovel talk. Subtle scenes, but nothing more in canon.

Unfortunately, in Season 4, the 20-year-old actor (Five) kissed the 35-year-old actress (Lila). So Lila cheated on Diego with Five. Sexual contact was implied. I am very disappointed with this choice in the show, not because of my ship. I am just a character fan (I have been burned by actors/actresses before) so the real life age difference was gross to me. I do not care if ships become canon or not. I do not need a kiss or even a smut scene for any of my ships. Fanon before Canon is my motto.

Next is Horrance (Klaus/Ben)

Klaus is a freak, a medium, a seance leader, a drug addict, a sex cult leader, a war veteran and can see and experience ghosts. In the military he was in a relationship with a another soldier called Dave. He can't die naturally and Dave sadly died in his arms. I liked the ship but after a few scenes Dave wasn't shown again.

Klaus is the only one who can interact with Ben (he's a ghost). His nickname for him is Bennie Boy. Ben is the level-headed, quiet counterpart. But he also has a "freaky" side. Huge uncontrollable tentacles (they are called The Horror) come out of his body and, not surprisingly, are not lethal to Klaus and even "know" him, whatever that means. It is unclear if the Horror can interact with Ben similar to Venom Symbiote or not.

It is revealed that Ben is in love with a girl named Jennifer (Bennifer lol) but if they interact the whole multiverse would be "cleansed". So his adoptive dad shot him and Jennifer that is why he is dead at the beginning of the show.

We meet another version of Ben. He is part of the Sparrows. Another academy in another timeline and a big idiot and a grumpy cat. But I love him too. At a party at the end of the world where Luther from the Brellies married Sloane from the Sparrows (but that is hetero so of course that is way different and not at all problematic/s) , Klaus and Sparrow Ben disappear and are found hungover and half-naked the next day. Ben has "Asshole" written in Sharpie on his back. They seem to be close, or at least Klaus is forcing Sparrow Ben to accept his affections. Ben tries to push Klaus away, but ends up grouchily accepting the touchy behavior. They definitally "did" something.

Nobody got a happy end however. They all sacrifice themself at the end, together at least, because they were never supposed to exist. (great message am I right) Also the Sparrows do not appear in Season 4. Yeah! And the show is officially over. They are comics but I did not have touched them yet. Right now I am plotting and sceming on a huge Fix It.

[mislamicpearl]

Thoughts on Danny Phantom: A Glitch in Time

If you want the tl;dr of my thoughts on this graphic novel, it's simple: I LOVED IT! And I want moooore!

SPOILERS GALORE BELOW

I'm soooooo happy with all the dialogue and characterization, it is just spot on! I could perfectly hear the original voices of the characters saying these lines, this comic could literally be a new episode of the show and it would fit seamlessly! No 2020's slang or memes, no wokeness that wasn't there before, just pure Danny Phantom. The only few indications of the comic having been written in 2023 is the use of words like "selfie" and "goat", and those are already old enough now that they don't feel that blatant.

Needless to say I'm sooooo glad this story's main premise is on Dark Danny, the fact that that storyline never came back in the show was always a sore spot for me. And not only Dark Danny but Vlad AND Clockwork come back for major parts to play? This is like the most wish fulfilling fanfic ever, except it's CANON!

But yeah, love that Vlad got to come back, it's always funny when he has to work together with Danny, AND the fact that he gets a redemption of sorts at the end fixes one of the many things I disliked about the show's finale - it had always felt like this was a villain character that could have and should have gotten a second chance to do some good.

Ahahaha I had completely forgotten that Tucker was made mayor of Amity Park in Phantom Planet, and ngl it was a great move on the comic's part scrapping that idea immediately, that had always been pretty silly.

I wish we could've seen just a little bit more of Danny interacting with his parents now that they know his identity as a half ghost, but considering they weren't major characters in this plot (and considering how things end up) it kinda makes sense.

The important thing is that we still got lots of cute wholesome hugs between Danny and his friends. :')

Aaaaaah Dark Danny is so cool! The art style was really cute but the author also managed to make Phantom look just as dark and menacing as he was in the show.

The best and most disturbing joke was Danny seeing that Vlad still had a clone of him in stasis, ahahaha! And this actually comes back to play an important part in the plot later!

I'm glad Valerie got some moments to shine in this too, I never liked how her and Danny's whole thing was just kind of rushed and brushed aside in the show's finale. Now we can see, she still doesn't completely trust him!

If there's just one thing I fault this comic with, it's the whole glitching through different timelines thing to make filler action scenes. I felt like they ate up page time for nothing.

"I put you two in the ground before, I can do it again" HOLY FRICK THAT'S DARK, DANNY!

I really love the lore surrounding the ghosts that was added. Given that Butch Hartman has said the ghosts aren't actually deceased spirits of real people, the explanation given here actually makes the fact that we have ghosts like Poindexter, who was a living boy once, make sense without negating what he said. It also very simply explains why we have weird formless or creature-like ghosts, something I'd never even thought to wonder about.

I did think it was a little too easy for Danny to get his powers back after that explanation (and dang, as if he hasn't been compared to Spider-man enough XD), but I love what it did for Vlad's character arc.

I don't know how I'd never thought before about Dark Danny and Vlad interacting but WOW I needed to see that! God what a deliciously complicated relationship - Vlad literally adopted this version of Danny and made him who he was! And again, what a great way to develop Vlad's character making Dark Danny show him exactly what would result from him getting what he'd always wanted in making Danny his protegee!

Clockwork Dark Danny looked so cool~

"Why was I the one who lost everything?" God this part punched me in the gut. 

Clockwork returning Danny and his friends back to the status quo of the show would usually annoy me, but I totally see that this is the author's way of undoing the results of Phantom Planet and leaving the story open to doing the ending over again - and I'm all for that! You know, if in fact we do get more comics after this.

Which it seems like we will because we kinda left Valerie on a cliffhanger there?

And Dark Danny is now a kid again and back with Vlad, heck yeah! Again, I need mooooore! Bring back Dani next!!

5 stars man, this is a continuation done right in every way!

[twistedturnstill]

Part 2 Kate's Awakening

Kate's Pov.

I was running. Running down a long hall, a seemingly never ending hall. Kraang droids chasing me. All too soon the caught me. Dragging me away they started to hitting me and tazeing me. All because I wouldn't answer their questions. I couldn't even understand their questions half the time, not that I would answer them if I could. They tased me again. This is extremely out of character for them. I shut my eyes and hoped for the best.

Things were dark and I could hear faint mumbling around me. Sensing them getting closer I start to panick. I waited until I felt like they were closer enough then I made my move. Opening my eyes and springing up I grab and flip the closest guy to me over my head and kick him back. I turn again taking a defensive position that's when I recognize them.

"Donnie?" I asked my voice hoarse, "Where am I, how did I get here why are you here, where, how, Kraang?" I started panicking at that last part.

"Its fine, you're okay!" He replied quickly trying to calm me, "We got you out there, and now you back the Lair."

I turned my head looking around. Raph started approaching us, and Mikey was eating pizza while reading some comic book not paying attention. Then I see Leo he was kind of hunched over holding his stomach when he came over. I relaxed, "I'm so sorry Leo! I didn't realize."

"I'm not you should do that more often." Raph laughed.

"It's fine I get it." Leo stood up straight glaring at Raph.

"

"Well it really is nothing. My T-phone just broke while I was saving you and Kirby," he responded shyly, "So I'm just fixing that and looking at what I can improve."

"Oh, sorry about that," I responded quickly, "How'd you make these anyway?"

"You don't need to be I mean it was my fault for going in it alone." Donnie sighed as a puff of smoke blew up from his gadget. He then went off on a rather long explanation of the workings of the tphone.

It didn't entirely make sense, but I got the jist of it. "Wow that sound pretty complicated I hope it works out they way you want to," I say

"Eh kinda but I almost got it," he turned back to his work concentrating on the wires once more.

"Well I'd better get going I think it's dark enough now." I said beginning to walk away.

"See ya" he called before the door closed.

Walking out into the I see all the other turtles. Raphs reading a comic book, while Leo and Mikey watch the ending to their episode of Space Heros. Splinter must have gone to sleep, or is meditating I thought to myself April and Kirby have already left too.

"Hey guys I figured it's time for me to head out," I called out after stopping for a moment, "Thanks for everything."

"It was no problem, I'm glad we could help," Leo responded getting up and walking over to you, "I'll walk you home so you don't get lost k?"

I pondered on this for a moment and figured I might as well accept the offer. I mean it would be safer and you be able to get to know one of them better.

"Sure, why not," I smiled.

[jin0]

🌨 with right person, wrong time prompt!

okay so i put off this one for a whole day cause it'd been simmering in my head for a little. i had the story but not the guy but NOW ??? now i got both and im kinda proud of it so here you go babes !! :

right person, wrong time with sherlock holmes from enola holmes !! :

watching as enola skipped away towards her new, the count of tewkesbury, you tensed, feeling the eyes of your on you. you could feel his large body get close to yours, but you kept your composure. your eyes stayed fixated on the landscapes, letting the sun and the wind blow through your gown.

"and old friend ? is this how you present me nowadays ?" he started, placing himself by your side.

you smiled slightly, still looking off in the distance and letting the sound of the wind and the chirping birds echo before thinking of a response. this place was absolutely magnificent, as beautiful as you remembered it. you didn't want to ruin it with useless debates and fights.

"i do not need to present you. you are well known on your own, sherlock. and why complicate the presentations with an explanation on what we used to be ?" you said, your voice sounding distant as the wind carried it.

you could feel his eyes on you and for the first time since he came up to you, you looked back at him. you always looked ethereal to him and the man who found pride in being very controlled failed to keep his admiration for you an unspoken fact.

"you speak of our connection in the past tense, as if we were nothing for each other today." pointed out the man in a monotonous tone to hide his inner turmoil. he could feel the emotions you brought out in him fill up and reach the limits he put around himself.

"we are nothing sherlock. our paths separated long ago. before they could even truly be crossed." you responded simply, admiring a bird bring food to its

turning towards you fully, he frowned at your words, feeling physical pain at the implications you were making so easily.

"nothing ? is it how simply you forget us and what we were ? is this what your disappearance has done to you ?"

"you call it a disappearance, i call it an adventure. you should be proud, i took the same road as you love. took a train and never looked back. looking back is embracing regrets and regrets have been too present in my life, from a very young age." you chuckled, lifting your dress and playing with the fresh, green grass.

"am i one of them ?" he muttered, trying to prevent you from seeing the sorrow on his features.

for a few seconds, silence settled between the both of you. each passing moment was another defeat for the detective, trying to comfort himself with the memories you both shared. when things were still simple and already prepared and perfectly planned for the both of you. the times where you were his and he was yours. these were the good times.

"no, love..." you smiled tenderly. the use if the nickname made his heart jump in joy and grief. he'd gotten used to hearing this word uttered out if your beautiful lips before and each time felt better than the last, bringing him back to life with a soft kiss of true love but without the kiss. "i could never regret what we had. it brought me the biggest lessons and adventures I could ever seek. you've done more for me than you give yourself credit for love, you made me realize how great and full life could be."

"without me. how great it could be without me."

"oh sherlock..." you sighed, shaking your head and walking away from the man who was quick to follow after you.

"you speak of us as if we shared nothing. we were to be wed but you refuse to speak of it, as if it was a great secret that needed to be kept hidden from the rest of the world."

the tall man stopped in his track when you spun around suddenly, looking at him with that determination and fire he had to discover as he met you again after all this time separated.

"no woman wants to let the world know that she has lost the man she loved to another. and no woman deserves to be humiliated in such a way that she would have to explain what the other turned out to be." you spat, looking at him with unwavering eyes.

"you never lost me dear. i was yours entirely."

when you scoffed, starting to laugh loudly, he frowned in both confusion and annoyance, vexed by your behavior. you were never one to mock him but after all this time, you'd changed so much, he could never tell what you were or weren't anymore.

as you whipped a stray tear that had been threatening to fall from your laugh, you caught your breath and looked at him in disbelief.

"oh dear... you are fooling yourself if you believe that you've ever been mine. i was yours, mind body and soul but you were never mine sherlock. you cannot be mine when your heart was never here." you declared, shaking your head slowly and staring at him in confusion. he seemed to believe his own lies deeply.

"are you saying i did not love ?"

"obviously you loved sherlock. every man loves at some point in time."

"then what is it that you're saying ?"

"i am saying that you never loved me."

at your declaration, the restraint he'd put around his emotions and reactions crumbled all around him, revealing the empty shell of a man who'd desired for someone for years without ever getting the chance to find her.

smiling, amused by his reaction, you started walking again, kicking your feet like a child would.

"you said we were to be wed and that we shared moments. i could never deny them, they are now engraved in my heart and will be for the years to come. but love, you never loved me. at least not like i loved you. you could never love like i loved."

"how is it that you love then ? and how is it so different from my way of loving you ?"

"sherlock, you do not love like i love because you never longed for anything." you started reaching a hand towards him to pull him in slow spins, dancing at the rythm of the air and letting your eyes close to take you to an imaginary ball. you often daydreamed your wedding and the first dance, this was the closest thing you'd get. "I long for a man who would love me so much, the vision of me would blind him to the rest of the world. i long for a man who would everything he's ever learnt as soon as he sees me, running and hugging me so tightly that i could feel my bones against my skin. i long for a man who would never leave, so distraught by the idea of leaving my side that he would need the comfort i could bring him to feel whole again. i long for a man who, even when away , would never love anything more that he's loved me." you mused, dreaming of the perfect man and ignoring the many images of your fiance that would show in your mind.

watching you, he frowned harder, taken aback by your words and the meaning your poorly tried to hide behind them.

"i do not see how i have not loved you exactly like you desired. my heart was yours the moment i layd my eyes on you dear. you were the one who disappeared when i came back."

once again, you scoffed, still twirling around the man and humming a soft tune.

"you never truly loved me sherlock. and that is the problem you have but could never voice. you were not in love for me but the idea of me. a woman, loving and waiting for you at home while you ran off to find adventures and the beauties and wonders of this world. your only true love was the world and whatever was hidden out there. you desired the adventure but also desired the comfort of a loving home. one that you would never be here to build."

"and is something wrong with desiring the adventures of the world and the comfort of a home ?" he asked, holding your fingers softly and dancing with you without thinking.

you shook your head, opening your eyes and looking into his own deep blue pupils. you raised yourself on your toes and kissed the tip of his nose and then his cheek before going back down to twirl a little slower and closer to each other.

his hand found your lower back, pulling you to his chest and inhaling your scent, the one he'd desperately missed in the past years of your absence.

"someone taught me a french saying while i visited paris over the last months : you cannot ask the sky for la pleine lune and desire the croissant de lune in the same night. you have to choose and you've made yours. the adventure you so dearly loved, i could never take it from you. i could only try to see what you loved so deeply and i will never regret my decision."

raising your hand to caress his cheek, his instinct pushed him to nuzzle his face on your skin, reaching for your warmth.

"your adventure is over, so why is it that i feel like you're saying goodbye again ? like we'll never have each other again."

"because we can never sherlock. with time, I've learned that forcing you to love me more than you loved the world was bound to break us apart. I've moved on now love, the world calls for me like it called for you. can you hear it ? the lands that were never explored before ? i can, they need me." you muttered, looking around you.

"i need you too. i need you to stay and teach me how to love like you love. i need to have you by my side." he pleaded, probably for the first time in his life.

you leaned your forehead against his, running your skin on his nose and kissing his cheek again.

"you never needed anyone love. today will not be the start. but one day, you'll meet the person that can make you stay and love without any shame. you'll find the person who brings you to a place you can call home. just know love, that i would've been more than proud to be this person for you. the only regret i will ever have is not being able to bring you home, sherlock."

you kissed his cheek one more time, walking away and allowing him to relieve his return from another successful case, the return that had sealed his fate, potential losing you forever. he watched you walk away, further and further away each passing second and felt his heart shatter once more.

he watched the woman who was both his compass and his final destination disappear in the distance. once again, leaving him with the memories of what they used to be and the dream of what they could’ve been.

[stillalittlelostngl]

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Pt 3 Dabi/Reader

Of Kamino ward and complicity. Reader deals with a world forcing kids to grow up far too quickly and a surprise visit. Again, just have to keep reiterating it's an old wip and that i will go back and edit at some point lol

“You won’t tell my mom will you?”

You gave the boy a dry look, your brow raised at the question 1he had asked over twenty times at that point as you finished healing the exit wounds that had littered his torso not an hour before.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you shrugged, trying to focus on creating new cells to replace the ones beyond repair, “She’d skin me alive if she found out I didn’t tell her…”

Yuichi’s face lost all color, your words rendering him far paler than he was when his friends had dragged him to your door earlier. You had to bite your lip to contain the smile that threatened to break across your face at the kid’s meek expression. You were positive the thought of Mrs. Ishimori’s temper had reduced you and your sibling’s faces to the same look a time or two.

His mother was a kind woman no doubt, going out of her way more often than what was required of her for you and your siblings growing up - practically treating the lot of you like her own children. Even now, at your big age, she still treated you like you like the same scrawny kid who would follow her around like some lost duckling. But, damn, if that woman didn’t have a temper on her - especially when she thought one of you kids were up to no good or lying to her.

And you weren’t looking to lying to her again to cover for Yuichi, but the only alternative would be to tell the woman what her son had gotten himself caught up in. Seeing how her face broke once she found out her son got into pushing for a local syndicate, and all the extra money he was bringing in for her medication wasn’t from extra shifts from the job he had quit months ago, wasn’t something you were looking forward to, funny enough.

No doubt the guilt of not saying anything to Mrs.Ishimori would eat you alive as you laid awake in bed that night, and you had made a promise you’d tell her eventually if Yuichi didn’t. Just, not today.

“Wouldn’t have to worry bout me tellin her nothin if you knew how to keep yourself outta this kinda shit.”

You’d been annoyed to hear the banging on your front door after having arrived home from a twelve hour shift at the clinic. You were planning on making your rounds in an hour or two, visiting neighbors whose condition required more regular monitoring, and you’d have to stay up a bit late tonight to make sure none of the local sects needed your help.

The weather was getting better after all; warmer weather always meant more work for you.

You had been hoping for some peace and quiet until then, however, that sentiment had quickly vanished when you opened the door and saw the wild eyes teens carrying the boy, begging you to do something.

They’d given you some rushed explanation you didn’t care to hear, far too focused on the boy you’d spent years chasing after bleeding out on your couch.

It always felt like you had the wind knocked out of you anytime you saw the kids of the ward being brought in. Their small hands used to cling to your school uniform when you’d walk them home after school and now that they were older they’d cling to the sidewalk they’d been more than ready to die for.

Now that things had calmed down, you could feel irritation bubbling to the surface and replacing the adreniline and anxiety that had clouded your head the moment you had seen him broken and bleeding. The boy had known better than to be selling on territory that had been the cause of a turf war between his group and a rival sect.

When he let out an aggravated groan at you words you had to remind yourself that smacking him upside his thick skull, which he was very much deserving of, wasn’t going to help things or get your words to actually stick with him any better.

“It ain’t nothin-”

You really couldn’t hold back your scoff then, the kid was really pushin it today. “‘Ain’t nothin’ when them kids dragged you here half dead?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he grumbled as he refused to meet your eyes.

“You got shot six times, Yuichi.” It was like he didn’t understand that he could’ve just as easily died on the streets today than be havin this conversation with you. Of course this willful ignorance didn’t seem to be something of his own design - you’d noticed it a lot with the younger kids. It was like they’d convinced themselves as long as you were there to fix them up they wouldn’t have to worry about their own mortality or something. The older folks never seemed to have that same sentiment; they’d be brought up and active before you became the resident healer for the ward. Maybe there was some correlation there?

Maybe you were making things worse? You could feel your insides twist at the thought.

“What if the next time they got a better aim? Or what if it’s the police or some hero that rolls up?”

“I ain’t stupid,” he insisted, “ I ain’t never been busted”

‘And of course that’s the part he focused on,’ you thought bitterly.

“Yeah, cuz you’ve been lucky - don’t get it twisted.”

Your words caused the stubborn boy to sit in silence, his head turned away from you as he practically pouted. You’re positive he would’ve got up and left if there still wasn’t a hole in his chest.

You always hated bein the one to have to have this conversation with him.

“Look,dusty little boy, I’m only sayin this cuz I like you.” It had become second nature for you to look out for the little hot head, you’d spent far too many years makin chasing after him to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble to just stop now.

Too bad it seemed like it hadn’t mattered in the end considering what he was choosing to do in his free time.

“And cuz your mama’s heart would be hurtin somethin crazy if you ain’t come home one day.” You couldn’t imagine she’d be able to survive that kind of heartache. You felt like you couldn’t most days. “And cuz I like you and your mama I ain’t gunna say nothin - You break her heart yourself I don’t want no part in it.”

The boy had the nerve to roll his eyes before giving you a stiff nod. He was more than aware of how his mother would feel, you’d only told him as much every time he’d come to you to get fixed up. You weren’t sure there was much else you could do for him at this point, he needed something but you weren’t sure you were the one who was able to provide it for him.

You fixed bodies. Not homes or communities or people - you didn’t know how to do all of that. You weren’t sure where to even start. Some days it felt like maybe just fixing the bodies was enough, like if you put managed to have a week or month with no unnecessary deaths then you was doin something right.

This wasn’t one of those days.

“How is she by the way?” you ask, trying to get out of your own head as much as you were trying to pull the sulking teen out of his,“I haven’t seen either of you in awhile.”

Neither of you mention how you’ve avoided the corner their apartment was on for the past few weeks. The one where a memorial to Twiggy had sprung up from where his blood had dried on the concrete.

“Fine, I guess.” The light from your quirk dimmed and you gave a nod to the boy. He rose from the couch and gave an experimental poke at where the bullets had torn through his chest, “Her heart ain’t been giving her problems since your last visit.”

That had lifted a weight from your chest you hadn’t realized was there. You wondered how long it had been since the last time you could breathe easy.

Probably before Mrs. Ishimori’s condition had deteriorated. She had always been a sickly woman but it never stopped her from chasing after you and the rest of the neighborhood kids. Not until her condition began attacking the connective tissues in her body. Suddenly she’d been in and out of the hospital weekly and your mother would always send you and your siblings to watch after Yuichi or run errands for her that you’d seen her do just fine on her own a million times before.

It had been odd to see her so unlike herself. No doubt Yuichi felt the same.

She’d rejected your help for the longest time, insisting she wasn’t in nearly as bad of a condition as some of the other people you helped. No doubt she was just too prideful to ask help from one of the brats she spent so much time taking care of. Her ego would surely take a hit from the change in the dynamic. Yuichi no doubt got his own stubborn streak from her as much as the woman complained about it.

Mrs. Ishimori had held onto her pride for sometime too, until the hospital bills had piled up far too high and the cost of her many medications became far too much for her to handle.

It had been touch and go there for a bit, you’d have a session with her but the symptoms would return a month or two later - alleviated by some measure but still present. You’d scoured any source you could on her condition, looking up as many treatments and studies on the disorder as you possibly could. The most recent session you’d had with her had been experimental, an educated guess based on the findings of one of the more recent trials done by some researchers overseas. Translating their work had been a pain in the ass but apparently it had paid off.

“I might stop by later this week ,” you said, rising to your feet and giving the boy one last look over to make sure none of the wounds had opened from his poking and prodding before sending him on his way, “just to make sure.”

He didn’t call you out on how bad of an excuse it was.

“Yeah, she’d like that.” He turned to walk to the door but you’d seen the small smile on his face before he had. You hated having these conversations with him but you’d hate them even more if he left on bad terms with you. He wasn’t clueless, a bit reckless sure but he knew what he was doing. All you could do was trust that he’d come to you when he needed help.

You walked him to the door, teasing him about some girl you’d seen around the neighborhood that rumor had it he was being sweet on, as you prepared to send him back out onto the streets that would’ve memorialized him, just like they did Twiggy, had he not made it to you.

Your eyes widened in surprise when there’s someone in front of the door when it swings open. You wouldn’t have recognized the man on the other side if he didn’t have such a distinctive look, it had been a week or so since you last saw him after all.

His hand had been raised as if he was about to knock and there’s a beat of silence as you shoot him a questioning look. He doesn’t offer an explanation, his raised hand just moving to rub the back of his neck as Yuichi looks between the two of you with a raised brow.

You gave the boy an unamused look as you watched the ‘knowing’ smile grow across his face.

He really was pushin his luck today.

“Aight you go on home now,” you said, leaning against the door frame, “and at least try to stay outta trouble.”

‘Yeah, yeah I heard you,” the little brat said with a wave of his hand as he hurried out.

You gave a huff as you watch him make his way down the hall, the little smart ass would no doubt be buggin you the next time he saw you about why some guy he’d never seen around the ward was visiting you.

“They hit a certain height and start thinkin they grown,” you sighed with a shake of your head, mostly trying to fill the uncomfortable silence than actually trying to make conversation with the man beside you. You turned to your eyes to the stranger, eyeing him to see if you could find any visible issue with the wounds you had healed before. “Ya know, most people visit sooner if there’s an issue with the healing.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, “Don’t usually remember all the houses I leave at four in the morning. Had to ask around for you.”

And that must’ve been a pain in the ass to do. Most people around here don’t like folks asking too many questions, especially if they don’t know them. Asking for you tends to set off red flags for people considering the type of people you usually work with.

You gave a nod in understanding as you pushed the door further open, inviting him in with a lazy flourish of a hand as you made your way across the threshold.

He made his way to your couch and got comfortable as you activated your quirk, the light filling the small space of your living room.

Just looking at him, he didn’t seem to be in any extreme pain. There was no limping, his breathing was strong and even, there were no visible bruises or open wounds. You were wondering if he came to you just to fix some aches and pains, those kinds of visits always annoyed you. You had much more important things to be doing, like helping someone with an actual problem or shit just sleeping. Of course you never turned those types of visits away, so it wasn’t like you were helping the situation.

Not like you could judge him just based on appearances before you could check how things were looking on the inside or at the cellular level, either.

It was a bit different doing this when he’s not half delirious and in pain, it was the type of unfamiliarity that had your skin crawling and you searching for something to say to drown out the silence as your hands moved to where you could faintly remember his body had been torn up.

“So, you not from around here.”

You wanted to smack yourself for such a cliche opener. You made sure to keep your eyes on your hands to avoid whatever weird look he must’ve given you.

Lucky for you he seemed to find it amusing if the low chuckle was anything to go by.

“That didn’t sound like much of a question.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Wasn’t really spose to be one, I ain’t ever seen you round Kamino before - at least not this side of the ward.”

Kamino wasn’t too big and people tended to know which faces were regulars and which weren’t - if he had a hard time asking about you then you could only assume nobody in the ward recognized him and he was some fresh meat for one of the syndicates or looking to make a name for himself.

You could feel the vibrations running through his chest from the small hum he gave in response.

“Well, you caught me - I’m new in town, only been here a few weeks.”

“Oh? Seems like you wasted no time pissin the wrong person off.” He could probably tell you were fishing for information, it wasn’t like you cared all the much to be subtle about it.

“Yeah, I tend to have that effect on people.”

“Word? And how’s that workin out for ya?” From what you could feel it seemed the wounds had closed up well enough as far as his lung was concerned, the new cells weren’t being rejected and none of them were dying off or creating new ones at an alarming rate. Happy with how well the healing for that area had went you shifted to focus on the less serious wounds, trying to find which was causing him irritation.

“Not as bad as you’d think,” he said with a small shrug, the movement disrupting your quirk and you had to focus it back to the area it had been examining.

You let his statement hang between the two of you unchallenged. While you would’ve argued a punctured lung wasn’t all that great you didn’t feel like getting into it with someone you didn’t know and decided to leave well enough alone for once.

You were more than ready to sit in silence for the rest of the session, the small conversation having set your nerves at ease, but it seemed like he had other plans.

“So why do you do all this?”

The question caught you off guard.

“You gunna have to be a bit more specific.” You both knew what he was asking about, but you didn’t feel like spilling your guts to some stranger who probably couldn’t care less.

“When I was asking around, they said you go around fixing people up, free of charge - that doesn’t sound like a very good business model.”

Your eyes lifted from your hands to meet the sharp teal of his own, you wanted to judge his sincerity before actually giving him an answer. Plenty of people have asked why just to try and start an argument with you about it and you weren’t about to sit through another one of those.

“It’s not about money,” you shrugged, eyes going back to your hands as you moved on to the next area, not bothering explaining how you’d rather be literally bankrupt than morally bankrupt.

“Obviously, but what is it all about, then?”

A frustrated huff left you at his insistence. You struggled to find the words to explain the behavior just to yourself let alone trying to make it make sense to some stranger who hadn’t been in Kamino that long.

“Who else is gunna do it?” It wasn’t meant to be a literal question, after years of asking you already knew the answer was nobody. “There’s no hospital here and the two clinics that are can’t do nothin for the cases that are the most common.” It wasn’t like he couldn’t have known this on his own - it was pretty common knowledge in the ward and something he should’ve looked up before deciding to try and make a home out of it.

“And how did healing villains and criminals become a part of that?”

Your hands paused in their movements, you were far too focused on trying to find the right words to explain something like this to someone who didn’t seem to have any real ties to Kamino.

You settled with a shrug before beginning your work again, “They’re members of the ward too ain’t they? Ain’t none of my business what they do.”

“Even if it means they’re killing people? Some people might say you’re complicit.”

“And those people ain’t know what the fuck they’re talking about,” unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice, “They’ve agreed to settle some things down since I started, less people been dying - I’d take that over how things used to be.” You remember a time when it seemed every other week there’d be flowers and candles posted up on some corner and your class at school would be one or two people smaller. You were tired of every other corner had a story where someone ended up hurt.

“Why not just go to the government for all of this? Seems like every other year they got some plan for how to fix Kamino.”

You couldn’t hold back the resentful scoff at the suggestion. “How you figure I ask them?” you could feel the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth - the thought of those big men in suits ever thinking to invite someone like you to sit and talk with them was just so far removed from reality, it made you wonder just where the hell this guy had come from to be suggesting that sort of thing. “They think everyone in Kamino is ignorant or a criminal, ain’t no way in hell they making space for us. And you’ve seen how well all their plans go over, yeah? They either never go into effect or fall through. They all wanna say they know how to fix Kamino but ain’t ever been to Kamino”

“And you know how to fix it?”

“I ain’t say all that,” you insisted, “I just know whatever they have planned ain’t gunna help the people here. It’ll just make people in the surrounding wards feel better.”

More heroes and police patrolling the area made others feel better, the bad guys were getting locked away after all, but they never actually fixed anything. The violence and crime never went down because the reason people were drawn to it were never addressed. But it was easier to just label the ward as ‘Villain Prone’ instead of actually implementing new policy to help a ‘villain prone’ population.

No, they could keep their plans and all that shit to themselves, let them make finger paintings with all the blood on their hands to try and convince the rest of the country they had done something extraordinary. You knew the truth.

“So they’re playing at some fake savior shit?” the stranger questioned.

You met his gaze as you eyed him apprehensively. He had a smirk tugging on the surgical staples in his cheeks and his eyes seemed distant, like he was looking through you.

“Yeah, something like that,” you murmured as the light of your quirk dimmed, the warmth of it leaving you to be replaced by an unfamiliar chill.

While the two of you spoke you had checked and triple checked your work but couldn’t seem to find what had been bothering him. There was no sign of remaining damage from his wounds, all of the tissues had healed, the replaced cells had been accepted and weren’t dying or multiplying at a concerning rate - he was as healthy as he could be.

So why had he come to you?

You rose to your feet, wringing your hands together to try and hide how they had began to shake, “I couldn’t find anything wrong with my work, you’re probably having phantom pains - I’m afraid I can’t help with that sorta thing.” You offered a small shaky smile, fighting off the fight or flight reaction to his lie as adrenaline sent blood ringing in your ears.

He gave a nod as he rose to his feet, you’d noticed before but hadn’t really paid attention to how his form towered over you - now it was all you could think of as you walked him to the door.

You hoped he took your out and left, that your gut feeling was wrong and he had lied because he was curious or something. It would certainly explain away all the questions he had asked.

But you’d survived reading men like him, his demeanor as he walked behind you was relaxed, but you had seen his eyes before you had turned to walk to the door. They had been sharp and predatory.

When you went to open the door and his arm reached around you to lean against it, effectively caging you in and closing off any exit, you closed your eyes as you cursed yourself for not noticing how off he was earlier.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, hoping to school your emotions so that just a confused and unassuming look was left on your face.

“Do you need something?” you questioned, your voice far smaller than you were used to; you almost didn’t recognize it.

You watched how his sharp eyes scanned your face, looking for something and when a smile worked its way onto his face you felt your stomach drop. Apparently, he’d found what he was looking for.

“Just a bit of your time.”

Panic seeped through you at the words and you went to move, where exactly you weren’t sure but anything to put some distance between you and the man was preferable, but he was far quicker - probably having anticipated your feeble attempt at escape. He pulled you close to him, an arm around your middle and the other stabbing a syringe to your neck before you even had time to understand what was happening.

You tried to fight him off, grabbing a hold of the arm with the syringe and activating your quirk - your heart beating far too quickly against your rib cage and your brain too clouded by fear to think of what you were doing. You could feel blood streaming from where you had a hold of him, could practically hear the bone shatter under your hand as he cursed before wheeling away from you.

The sudden lack of support and no doubt the sedative that must’ve been in the syringe had you crashing to the floor, struggling to keep your eyes open let alone get your limbs to cooperate with you so you could get the hell out of there.

You tried to stay awake, tried to move away from him as he neared you, the damage to his arm not having been enough to stop whatever he had planned, but your head was already swimming and your movements were weak and uncoordinated when you went to catch his good arm, or any part of him really, in your hands so your quirk could go to work.

He restrained you easily enough and you felt tears rush down your face, wondering just what faction you must’ve pissed off to have them send someone to do god knows what to you.

____

Dabi watched as their lids became heavy and their resistance slowed to a stop, seconds later their breathing evened out as their eyes closed and the drugs took hold. He released the hold he had them in and bit back a pained noise as the sharp aching pain from him arm finally began to fully register with him.

His eyes narrowed as he examined the mangled state of it, as if the staples holding it together before hadn’t been an issue...they had damn near pulverized the bones and the deep tears in his charred skin allowed some of the fragments to be visible.

It was nauseating to see and it had been more of a struggle than he cared to admit to pull out his phone to get the asshole on the line as his head began to swim with pain and adrenaline.

He had a bit surprised the little healer had some bite to them, he was a bit impressed to be honest. As sloppy as they were, the damage was still pretty damn effective - he’s sure if he hadn’t already put his body through hell and back it would be a hell of a lot more distracting.

As he talked with Shigaraki and told him to get Kurogiri to open a warp gate for him, he couldn’t tell if it was excitement or irritation building in him. ‘Probably both,’ he thought with a glance to the little menace. Or maybe it was just the pain doing weird shit to his head.

Either way, things would be a lot more interesting around the base.

[bigskydreaming]

Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.

Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?

I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.

This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.

Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?

(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative. 

It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?

SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).

BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.

Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....

None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?

Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.

I mean?!?!

And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....

And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?

Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?

Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?

Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.

And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.

Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -

(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)

- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?

We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?

Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.

Is that how that went down?

You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?

The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?

Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?

Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?

Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....

They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!

Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?

afshklfhalfhalfhla

Make it make sense!

And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT.

The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.

Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....

THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.

Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...

The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....

That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.

Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....

And you chose not to.

That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.

For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.

And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....

You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).

And its just like, uh, what's up with that?

[rotshop]

help girl i just woke up and im already thinking abt mag s/o again. anyway please consider ;

[ tw body horror, some brief light gore and violence ]

[ note ; reader is SLIGHTLY described. the only thing mentioned is that they have a noticeable, identifying scar on their face

hank + mag s/o

-he knew you even before the boombox incident. he doesn't even really remember how you two first met, he just remembers that you started talking to him and then just kinda kept coming back. at first he wasn't the biggest fan of you since he was 'doing just fine on his own,' but...he admittedly was already really attached to you. they've never been much of a talker and that's especially noticeable to you at that point in time but ,,, they respond enough with signing, nodding / shaking their head, or the occasional speaking that you're able to carry some conversations pretty well.

-he doesn't really. have. a lot of people in his life. you're really his only real close friend, it's kinda hard for him to fully wrap his head around it so !! they chose not to, instead focusing more-so on whatever it was you were rambling to them about that day.

-not super sure of where to put this lmao but ummm ehe . he's actually surprisingly touchy with you????? like. you've hung out at his house a few times and he just like. you'll start out sitting next to each other and you'll end up either laying with your head on their chest or vice versa . its . a little funny . you tease him about it a little and he just flicks your shoulder. also traces your scar a lot if you'll let them, they're not entirely sure why they do it, they just . like asking you about it occasionally.

-also you have scary dog privileges. they might look like any other grunt at that point but they're still tall as fuck and idk man !! something abt getting a blank stare from someone who towers over u would probably make u shut up and mind ur own damn business.

-again, he's not super good at fully recognizing / acknowledging certain thoughts and feelings of his but . yknow. he can definitely tell he at least worries about you a lot more than he would some other grunt he just met. he can definitely tell there's a reason he doesn't mind you touching him, whether by grabbing his hand to go show him something or just placing a hand on his shoulder or arm (most likely arm, again. hes tall. ). they can definitely tell there's a reason that they find themself genuinely enjoying your interactions.

-after the park thing you don't see them for a long time. everytime you try and call him the lines dead, everytime you try and ask others about him you just get choice words, all in all you're pretty much lost on the entire thing. sure, you know what happened but . it just never sits right with you. it doesn't help whenever people ask questions about them or give you wary looks because of your association, half steps back when you take one forward.

-anyway. yeah nevada goes to shit and you get magnified for the aahw. by now you just. don't really talk about hank. surprisingly, you have a little more of your old memories than the average mag !! congrats. problem is they're all foggy enough that you only really distantly decipher them. lmao. you aren't super high on the ladder but you're a pretty tough mag to beat. you're well known enough that other mags tend to hang around you when there's not much else going on. v2 mags especially think it's fun to mess around with you by jumping on your back or otherwise clinging onto you . idk man u've got like . a little family here .

-at one point or another there's an outing youre on that ends up going wrong. you get split up from the rest of your unit and are forced to hide out in some old abandoned building while you wait for backup. you're a little too injured to try and walk all the way back, a heavy gash on your side preventing you from doing too much in the moment. when you hear heavy steps on concrete you're able to give some sort of noise of relief, turning your head to look over your shoulder at whichever agent in your group had finally found you-

-you're instead met with red goggles and the end of a gun.

-any kind of relief is snatched away, you know damn well who it is by just the bit you can see in the dark alone. even standing in the shade between two windows (one of which you were sitting by, probably how they seen you in the first place- if that's the case though, it's a little weird they hadn't just shot at you through it.) you knew it was him. you're already stumblingly forcing yourself up to as much of your full height as you can manage, taking some kind of defensive position even as one of your hands ghosts over your gash. the throbbing pain of it and the feeling of blood sticking and running down your skin is enough that you can't seem to focus on the fact that he won't stop staring at your face.

-it doesn't take long before your legs seem to fail you, forcing you forward a bit as you kneel in some sort of attempt to keep upright. you're too busy hissing under your breath and screwing your eyes shut in pain as your hand covers your side to notice your company stepping forwards. you're snapped back to attention when there's a hand on your face, fingertips digging into your skin as they yank your head down a little further. you know you should be grabbing him, that you should be digging your claws into his torso and ripping him clean in half, throwing whatevers left aside and leaving. you know thats what you were told to do, what you were told they deserved anyway. yet, you aren't. instead, you're just giving some warning growl as you stare at them. you notice how the end of the gun is pointed away from you, how their touch seems to outline the mark on your face.

-"If you try and hurt me, I'll kill you." That's the only real heads up you get before he's crouching down and shoving your hand out of the way, grabbing something from his pocket to get to work on you. you don't fail to notice how little attention they're paying to you (aside from the focus on your wound, of course), that you could just rush forward and slam them into the ground if you really wanted.

-ok im skippin g ahead bc this is already way too goddamn long for hcs DEJWJCS

-anyway. it's a complicated relationship for a while. the others tend to avoid you a little but he just keeps showing up around you. they keep staring at you and just hanging around in your general area. it's not that much of an irritant if you ignore all the weird emotions and thoughts it keeps bringing to the forefront of your mind, forcing you to once again try and meddle with your memories.

-eventually he just starts walking over to you and sitting down next to you. sometimes he doesn't say anything at all, just sitting there and seeming to wait for one thing another- he never seems to find whatever that is, as he always gets up and leaves without a word at some point or another. then they start talking, its just little things at first, point-blank statements you can't say much on. sometimes they're just saying they and the other three will be gone for a bit othertimes it's some half-demand to let them look at the stitches they did on you (semi-related, he's not good at them. the stitches are pretty rough. at one point or another sanford has to redo them properly lmao)

-but then there's one particular night. they do the normal thing, come over, sit down next to you, not say a word. this time though you note how they're facing you. instead of some reminder or a demand for anything, he's pulling his ask down and asking a simple question. 'What do you remember?'

-it's a long conversation. he's talking more than he normally would by a long shot, occasionally stopping whenever his words seem to especially fail him and get stuck in his throat. you don't even really remember moving around, or even him pulling you in any way, you just know you somehow end up laying next to him with your head on his chest.

-whenever the memories do seem to click into place, it's hard. you have a lot of choice words for them yourself, months of being left alone without a word bubbling up with a vengeance, they listen to them. while some mags (such as yourself) do have the ability to speak, the san and dei don't think they've ever heard one with that much emotion in their voice. they've especially never seen a mag just break down like you do, they're both tensing up a little from their far away spot when hank's walking closer to you. instead of you lashing out or swiping at him though, you just sit there while he wraps his arms around you (as best as he can at least, it's a little difficult but he's able to get them around your neck and reach his other hand behind you well enough). you're eventually doing the same to him, though it's more so just your hands resting on their back.

-it takes a good while for proper trust to be rebuilt along with an honest, proper explanation from hank that only you're privy to. eventually though, there's enough trust that you're able to hang around him again without narrowly avoiding an argument or anything. they don't like being super affectionate or 'vulnerable' in front of the other two, so most times they prefer being in your or their room. also they're still touchy lmao, doesn't help that you're mag sized now and so they just want to hold you . its hard to explain, he's never been super affected by others heights and even when he is it's usually a negative thing for him but . for some reason . he just likes being shorter / smaller than you lol ,,,,,,,, hope you like holding them a lot bc that's what you're gonna be doing

-holy shit these are long so . i think .i am going to stop here.

[barbarianprncess]

is there a reason you’re blushing like that !!!!

i actually loved writing this so thank you for the prompt!

forever house

read on ao3

or

“Mom, I’m home!” Percy calls distractedly into their apartment as he wrestles with his skateboard.

“Hi honey,”  Sally answers from the couch, and he can hear the smile in her voice when she says “There's a surprise for you in your bedroom.” He furrows his brow and hurries upstairs. He opens his bedroom door expecting cookies and is instead greeted with familiar blonde hair and a bed overrun with papers far too complicated to be his own. He can’t help the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of his girlfriend, still in her Catholic school uniform.

“Hey!” He leans over his bedspread being very careful not to wrinkle her designs to plant a kiss on her cheek. “How’s my favorite genius?”

“Hey Percy.” Annabeth is currently scrambling to get her papers in order, which he finds odd because usually when he calls her a genius she’ll smile and kiss him extra gently. And then she only needs a little prodding and he can get her to explain what she's working on. She gets this crinkle in the corner of her eyes when she talks about her projects and gesticulates wildly to get him to understand. It’s awesome.

But right now, Annabeth is beet red, eyes manic, and piling papers with a vengeance. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening but Annabeths got this look in her eye- like one wrong move and she’s gonna bolt. “What’re you working on?”

“Nothing!” She says voice cracking in a way that clues him in on the fact that the subject of her stress but her work. Which Percy finds ridiculous because he may not understand the nuanced and complicated world of design, but Annabeth’s smarter than anyone, she’ll figure whatever it is out. Annabeth gets like this sometimes- ADHD fixation and her need for perfection is a combo that doesn’t mix well and in the months that they’ve been dating, there have been more than a few times when Percy had to loosen her fistes curled around her designs in frustration, and talk her down from a panic attack because Apollo didn’t love his statue. Percy hates that her work does that to her, but he likes taking care of her.

“Annabeth,” He says slowly, hands already positioned to relieve her of the designs that she managed to wrangle in her lap, but she bats them away.

“No, no it's not- I’m not.” She looks up at him and her eyes soften at his concern. “I’m fine, seriously I’m not stuck on anything.” Percy raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“Sooo… is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” Annabeth's hands fly up to her neck as if she can stop the flush of her skin from the outside. Which is a mistake on her part because Percy immediately grabs the blueprint she was so desperately trying to hide. She lunges for it, causing the remaining papers to fall forgotten on the floor, but Percy's growth spurt, along with the angle she’s sitting on his bed, makes it so he’s able to keep her at bay.

“Percy!! Give it back, oh my gods, I’m gonna kill you!” He’s heard that before and he’s still breathing so, he takes his chances. He makes out the words “Forever House: Annabeth Chase”, and a vague sketch of what looks like a shoreline. He catches Montauk and something about support beams when Annabeth finally succeeds in snatching the paper from him. She’s flushing even harder now, and her hands are covering her face.

“Which of the gods are asking for a forever house?” He laughs until he notices Annabeth shaking her head and she lets out a muffled ‘none of ‘em’ from behind her hands.

“Hey, hey Annabeth.” He says softly poking at her sides and pinching at her cheeks (he gets mostly fingers because she’s still covering her face but, all the better to grab her hands with). She sighs and lets him take her hands and sit on the edge of the bed, still not meeting his eyes. He squeezes the fingers in his grasp, a silent promise not to make fun of her, and she takes a deep breath and forces out an explanation.

“Well, a couple weeks ago, while I was waiting for you to get out of school, me and your mom talked for a while and she mentioned some of your trips to Montauk and how much you loved them, and we were looking at pictures and she mentioned how you always said you wanted to live there, right on the beach when you got older, and inspiration kinda struck and I started sketching out your hypothetical beach house. And I guess subconsciously, your beach house became a version of…. the forever house.”

Now, Percy’s heard of the hypothetical ‘forever house’ before. Annabeth had told him once about her favorite theoretical place, created when she was little. Having lost every person and place she was told to call home, caused a deep distrust for anywhere she lived in the future. (He doesn’t blame her, he’s not sure he could ever trust anything if he went through what she went through before Luke turned to Kronos- let alone everything she went through after.) So to cope, in her head she’d design a house that she’d build when she was older- now known as the forever house. She told him she daydreamed about building it, how it’d be open and bright with huge windows so she’d never feel alone again. But, despite its openness, it’d be sturdy and rooted in place. The design and location changed over time but it always had big windows and it was always immobile. And no matter what happend, that house would be her ‘something permanent’. Her forever house.

As what she was saying registered, Percy’s smile grew impossibly wide. Annabeth must’ve assumed he was laughing at her and deflated. “I know, it’s stupid and creepy just forget it ok I didn’t mean-”

He let go of her hands as she rambled and cut her off with a kiss. He wasn’t sure how to articulate what he was feeling with words, so he let his body speak for him. His thumb swipes at her cheek (I’m sorry that you had to build a house in your head because the people that were supposed to love you didn’t, it wasn’t your fault, thank you for trusting me anyway), he runs fingers through her hair (It’s an honor to be a part of your future, I’m going to care about you, on purpose, for as long as you’ll let me), he tilts up her chin to deepen the kiss (I love you, all of you).  

When they part he rests his forehead on hers and allows himself a minute to be in awe of her. He learned a long time ago that Annabeth was brave. But after learning so many of the intimate details of her past, he thinks that her ability to love at all is an act of bravery. Everytime she tells him a secret, or holds his hand, or lets him walk through one of her walls is an act of rebellion. To love Annabeth is to be in awe of her relentless courage.  

“Thank you.” He whispers. He doesn’t clarify what for and she doesn’t ask. She just smiles something small and says, “You’re welcome.”

He kisses her forehead because he can and half-laughs out, “You made me a house.”

“Ugh.” She buries her head in his shoulder bites at his collarbone in annoyance. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you love me, you know how I know?”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

“Because you made me a house!” He says gleefully into her hair.

Annabeth shoves him back on the bed and he pulls her down with him. She half on top of him, face buried in his chest when she retorts,

“I made us a house.”

He hopes she doesn’t mind when his arms tighten around her. It’s instinct. And a necessity. And when he whispers i love you into her hair, it's a silent promise. A promise to do anything and everything possible to get them to that house one day. From the way she smiles into his shirt, she’s gonna do the same.

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter Eight

Chapter seven // Chapter nine

Warnings: suicidal thoughts.

It’s kinda rushed but it kinda fits with today’s prompt for rowaelin month! next chapter is going to be way longer :)

————

Rowan took a piece of towel and used it to remove the foam from his client's leg, revealing a tattoo he had been working on for four long hours.

It was a large bouquet of flowers, each one a different color to represent a member of the client's family, with writing in the Old Language with their names.

“Here it is,” He told her, holding a mirror above her leg so she could see all the details. Her smile grew as she took in her tattoo. It was one of his favorite parts of his job, the emotion on their face. He loved to be able to bring such feelings to the people he worked on.

“I love it.” She said and Rowan only nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. He put away his equipment, throwing away the little pots of ink that he hadn't quite finished while his client left, thanking him, before going to sign the last papers at the counter. When he finished, Rowan joined her and gave the invoice to Remelle, their assistant.

He left to clean up his workroom before entering the break room, heading straight to the fridge to take out his food. He had spent an hour yesterday cooking pasta, chicken and cutting up his favorite vegetables to make a salad. Cooking had always helped him to keep his mind busy and these last days it was more than necessary.

A few minutes after Rowan settled down at the round table in the middle of the room, fork in hand and his dominant hand busy holding an Apple Pencil while he multi-tasked eating and drawing for his appointments, Gavriel entered the room.

Rowan tried not to stare at him, exactly as he had done all week. But today it was more complicated as Gavriel sat down next to him, getting his full attention. He tried with all his might to concentrate on the drawing in front of him, but the temptation was too strong. "How's..." He cleared his throat, the words hard to come out. "How's Aelin?"

He avoided any eye contact, his eyes fixed on the tablet even if his drawing hadn’t progressed in the last ten minutes. He hated the feeling of worry in his chest. Rationally, he knew she was physically okay or Gavriel and Aedion would be by her side now. But she had been good at hiding her emotions, so good that her family didn’t see anything worrying. Apparently, he was the only one who saw anything, and it did nothing to help his worry about how she was right now.

After long seconds without a response, Rowan dared to look up at Gavriel. His head was turned toward Rowan, fork a few inches from his opened mouth. His entire face was frozen. Rowan just raised his eyebrows, waiting for anything to come out of his mouth. His boss shook his head, seeming to come back to reality. “Yeah. She is, why?” He could see the confusion on Gavriel’s face but Rowan wouldn’t answer that question so he just shrugged.

Rowan managed to stay quiet a few more minutes, even if he could feel the awkwardness in their air, but another question was burning his throat. “Have you ever met Arobynn Hamel?”

This time he looked up to see Gavriel look at him as if he was an alien, but thank the Gods, he didn’t comment on his interest. “Once or twice, but very briefly. Generally, that was just when he was picking Aelin up.” Rowan nodded, still trying to understand what Aelin had meant by The furthest they are from Arobynn, the safest they are. She hadn’t said anything else, leaving him more confused than anything.

“How did she met him?” He tried to appear casual as he asked that, taking another fork of food in his mouth. The food tasted sour as Gavriel kept watching him suspiciously. He couldn’t ask these questions to Aedion, knowing his friend he would be too defensive of his cousin, especially if Rowan was the one asking the questions. Gavriel knew about Aelin and Rowan’s disdain for each other but he knew less than Aedion, he hadn’t seen the two of them yell at each other or hadn’t witnessed them doing absolutely everything to ruin the other’s day.

He didn’t dare to ask Lysandra either, he was sure the woman would stab him with her hells if he even dared to pronounce Aelin’s name.

So Gavriel was the safest choice.

He seemed to think about who to tell him before opening his mouth. “At a party, when she was sixteen or fifteen, I think.” He took a bite of his food. “Arobynn’s an old friend of her father, both went together to college and were best of friends there, but they lost contact and met again at a gala. They talked about Aelin and found out she wanted to work in the same industry as Arobynn. He’s been her mentor ever since.”

Fifteen? Maybe Rowan’s mind was just fucked up to think it was weird, maybe he was just influenced by what Aelin said the other night. He might not have found it weird if she hadn’t said anything. He was just thinking too hard, trying too hard to find an explanation for what’s happening to her.

“You think he’s good to her?” Gavriel was a wise man, he was trying so hard to be part of his son’s life and it included taking care of Aedion’s cousin. Surely, he didn’t notice the little things Rowan did, but maybe he noticed something else. Rowan’s boss only shrugged.

“He found her a place at her university, made her TA, and gives her a job every summer. So, yeah. I guess so.” And he was paying for her education, a fact Aelin hid from her family. Why would she? It was what didn’t make sense, what was weird with all that. “I’m even sure he’s the first person she went to see when she left her parents in Terassen.”

What?

“What do you mean, ‘left’?” He asked, his brows furrowed. It wasn’t the only thing that didn’t make sense, he knew for a fact Aelin came to the house first. He hadn’t talked to her that day, he and the boys were sent to their room as if they were teenagers the moment a crying Aelin knocked at the door. He had lingered longer than necessary in the staircase, long enough to see her in a dress, shoes in hands, and cheeks filled with black makeup that had run down her cheeks.

Next thing he knew, Aedion spent a week at his father, trying to get Aelin better. Rowan had thought about this night for too long, Rowan always thought Aelin had partied too hard (because from her outfit, it was quite clear she had partied) and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for her parents. Even without wanting to, it had been impossible not to know about Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Pictures and videos of her in more than indecent dresses for her age were on page one of every magazine, when pictures of her sniffing coke had leaked it had even been made to National News. She had been sixteen at the time, and it had only been one of many times she had been caught doing what she shouldn’t have.

Before Gavriel could answer, the door opened to let Aelin appear in the doorway. She was holding flowers in her left hand, a smile on her face as she saw her uncle. Unfortunately, her face froze when she saw Rowan. Rowan’s entire body stilled, eyes roaming all over her body. She seemed okay, not skinnier than the last time he saw her, not hurt.

“Oh,” she said, opening and closing her mouth multiple times. She swallowed before clearing her throat. Only a blind person wouldn’t see her anxiety. “I didn’t think you ate there.”

He usually didn’t, having enough time to go back home. It was more comfortable to eat there, but he had been burying himself under work since he woke up in her empty bed. “You thought wrong.”

She was uncomfortable, and he both wanted to make her feel that way for hours and wanted to comfort her at the same time.

Sensing both of their unease, Gavriel stood up and went to leave the room. “I brought you those, your favorites,” Aelin said, giving her uncle the flowers. “I went to your favorite flower shop.”

Gavriel smiled and kissed Aelin’s cheek, earning a smile out of her. “Thanks.” He looked back at Rowan, he knew it was a warning glare but he didn’t care. He needed to speak with her. Gavriel left, pretending to have something else to do but it was all an excuse to let them speak.

“So, you’re alive.”

Aelin snorted. “I don’t know if you look relieved or sad.”

He fought his lips from rising. “Anything to say?”

Aelin looked at him, her bottom lip between her lips and her hands fidgeting. “Your shirt is ugly.”

It was his turn to snort. Of course, she wouldn’t go straight to the point. He arched a brow, waiting for a real answer. Even though he was the one sitting, he held more power than her now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he said as he closed his tablet, letting his fork down on the plate to have his hands free. “I just want you to act like the adult you are, and it doesn’t include running away in the middle of the night after telling someone you want to die.” His voice was hard, it made Aelin flinch.

“I never said I wanted to die.”

“You said you didn’t have the strength to live, Aelin.”

“Yeah, never said I wanted to die.”

“But do you?” He had to ask, because if she did… He would do what was necessary, he couldn’t let her die. She was already killing herself slowly, between the sex and the alcohol… She told everyone she was sober from drugs but she had been lying for so long to everyone he had a hard time believing it.

Rowan got his answer when she avoided his gaze, focusing on the floor. His heart broke, he needed to help her and he doubted sending her to a psychiatric hospital would help.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice heavy with emotions. With his head, he made her sign to sit next to him, and to his surprise, he complied. She turned her chair to face him, their knees brushing. He could see the dark circles around her eyes from that close, her lips dryer than usual and dotted with small wounds that he knew were due to her teeth.

“I’m coming back home.” He told him, finally looking at him. “I was around, I finished school yesterday and had to sign some things at Arobynn’s office. So I bought Gavriel’s favorite flowers to thank him, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“You hoped I wouldn’t.” He stated and she only nodded. She looked broken as if she knew she could let her guard down after what happened between them Monday. He was happy she knew he would be here for her.

“I was ready to call the cops when I woke up alone, Aelin,” Rowan confessed. He needed her to understand people suffered from her actions. “I was going to until I heard Aedion complain to Lysandra about you leaving him for his father.” He exhaled a loud breath, trying to forget everything he felt that morning. “Aelin, I thought you were dead somewhere.”

Her hand gripped his, he couldn’t hide the surprise from his face. She kept her hand in his, her small fingers enveloping his. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from it, they had never touched like that. “I’m sorry,” her weak voice said. “I panicked. I didn’t think…” He looked back at her, letting her time formulate her thoughts. It was hard enough, she didn’t need to be pressed. “I didn’t think you’d care, to be honest. Nobody ever did, you said it yourself. Aedion was annoyed I was at Gavriel’s, not that I was gone. It’s always been this way, I’ve always been… free.”

It wasn’t freedom, it was negligence. But she didn’t need to hear this now, so he kept his mouth shut, just nodding in understanding. He linked their fingers together, delighted to see the surprise on Aelin’s face, at least they were even now. He squeezed her hand, accepting her apology. Two weeks ago he would have thought Aelin did it on purpose to have attention, but he began to realize he was wrong about her.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow.” He said, changing the subject. He had to get back to work soon, and he didn’t have the time to unpack everything he wanted right now. Aelin still looked at their hands, feeling too hard to describe on her face. She nodded.

“Lysandra and Dorian spent the week throwing a huge party for you,” It wasn’t exactly a surprise, Aelin knew there would be a party but probably thought it would just be her and her close friends. Lysandra and Dorian had another idea in mind. “If it’s too much, we can ditch. We’ll find an excuse.”

Finally, her eyes looked back at his face. She had a small smile on her face, Rowan’s heartbeat eased at that. “No.” She shook her head. “A party is what I need right now.”

Rowan wanted to disagree on that, but she was an adult. She knew what was best for her. “Then let’s party.”

Her eyes widened. “You usually don’t come to my birthday.” She was right, he had avoided these parties full of teenagers as much as he could, but he wanted to stay with her.

“I thought were an English major,” he teased her, pulling at her arm slightly making her smile. “What part of ‘you don’t have to be alone anymore’ don’t you understand?”

At that, she smiled so brightly Rowan could have sworn it lighted up the entire room.

————

tag list: @sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @hellasblessed // @danibutterr

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review, ch (92-93)

That was painful & so well-written! This analysis will focus on kyokyo mainly & faintly on her effect on kyo. Although, her story affects tohru’s life immensely, I won’t analyze tohru’s part & will wait until it’s a tohru’s chapter to use the knowledge of kyoko’s past to better read tohru’s mind & understand her decisions! Can’t wait! after all, that’s why I’ve read the manga to begin with!

-Kyoko’s Atonement:  (the weight of words):

 Kyoko breaks down after she learns she’s expecting. Why? cuz she hurt her mom. The notion that “yeah my parents caused me emotional trauma & so I’mma hurt them as well” is toxic & burdening as it starts a cycle of pain. Kyoko was right. She had no idea how her mom felt seeing her rebel, or follow violence or hear her harsh words. I’m not cleansing the mom from guilt nor responsibility. I’m just saying since the mom’s pov is blocked from us, assuming shes similar to the dad is wrong. kyoko’s fear of being punished with a child similar to herself is genuine, realistic & refreshing to see expressed in anime! usually character like kyoko are cool & brave, but here she’s humanly weak & doubtful. LOVE IT!

Moreover, in furuba words weigh on ppl & have consequences. We see this with kyo. His dad destroyed him verbally with words “ not my fault, it’s yours” that kyo echoes back to yuki! meaning the consequences of the dad’s words cause harm to his wife, kyo & even yuki!. Kyo was tormented with his own words for long time & clung to them even more in order not to resort to suicide! “ not my fault, it’s the rat’s” . Words can crush you down so bad if you hear them from loved ones, & worse if you utter them back to other loved ones! here kyoko learned that just the mere thought of her future child echoing her words back to her would torment her to death! Excellent writing!

-Katsuya invented Furuba’s vision (Accepting weakness & moving on):

The teachings of kyoko & tohru were really katsuya’s after all. I’m fne with that. These teachings are the core of Furuba’s vision. He tells kyoko to accept that she’s weak, afraid & doubtful. it’s okay. But gives her tools to move on. Your kid isn’t you. They’re an individual person. As parents all we can do is give love/hugs (sth kyoko’s parents didnt do), listen to them (sth yuki’s parents didnt do) & if they do sth wrong will explain it & teach them well (sth kyo’s parents didn’t do, his wrong deed was being born a cat spirit & he was hated for it with no explanation, mom gave lots of “fake” love & escaped by death, dad became a raging monster). Accepting weakness & moving on is what the cursed sohmnas needed to do to heal & what tohru taught them. Off course, tohru herself struggled to follow her own teachings & that’s amazingly realistic!

-Kyoko’s guilt (punishment brings ease):

Kyoko wanted to be punished so harsh for her husband’s death. The gossip got to her. She failed him as a life’s companion. Taking care of our loved ones is a duty we carry with much love & care. Them slipping away is perceived as us failing by none than ourselves. The thing is, death comes with no warning at times. It was his time to leave. Accepting it or not, wont bring him back, but accepting it will help kyoko deal with pain while not accepting will cause more pain for her & tohru.

One of the most painful things abt grief is that it’s personal. Life continues around you. Only you feel it.  “didn’t the world end when katsuya died”. No kyoko. Only you died emotionally. Only him died physically. Kyo once said “ mom why didn’t you kill me instead”. A different reaction to grief, guilt & pain, but same conclusion: neither katsuya nor kyo’s mom are coming back no matter how much pain kyo or kyoko felt.

Kyoko found ease in emotional death, neglecting & refusing life, punishing herself for staying after him.

kyo found ease in rage & blaming others as he his father did, later he’ll escape to emotional & physical slow death “ cat cage/confinement”.

tohru... found ease in pretending "I’m okay” & her mom is alive.. but not physically.. emotionally, so she’ll ignore the truth & live only for her.

Didn’t I say grief is harsh, weird & very very personal. It’s hard to explain, deal with & heal. The mere words of consolation hurt cuz the grieving ones dont want to accept loved one are really gone. Her dad’s harsh words cemented the “emotional death” that kyoko felt. I’m not needed. neither katsuya. nor parents in general. depression. misery. sadness. emptiness.

-The tv show helped to trigger kyoko’s desire to “meet” katsuya. She has already reached the conclusion that she isnt needed. So, the tv show with their words of the deceased wanting you to be happy. triggered her into misinterpreting the words as to mean her death NOT fuel her to live in his memory as intended.

- “Loosing your way first before finding your answer” is okay & so human!:

Ironically..Tohru... was the person Kyoko was punishing NOT herself: By being emotionally dead, kyoko neglected her daughter. Her world shouldnt be just one person. There are others. Katsuya himself gave her a person to love. Tohru. Kyoko chose death & unintentionally set tohru into a world of loneliness 10 times harsher thsn what kyoko faced. She was about to do, but was saved by a nameless child who reminded her of tohru. She chose wrong first but later saw her answer. Kyo chose death by accepting the confinement & he, too, unintentionally set tohru into a world of loneliness 10 times harsher if he wasnt with her. He chose wrong first but later saw his answer. Off course kyo’s story is more developed & complicated as he dealt with bigger issues than just tohru & his answer wasn't just loving tohru alone but also loving himself & choosing to live for them both: himself & tohru.

-Kyo’s guilt is a concussion thought eating him alive:

Part of why kyo’s story was one of the most human & complex is due him loosing his way first, failing, repeating mistakes “ I always though that hurting ppl was the only thing I was good at, after all, isnt that why mom died?” Kyo’s nightmare being a conscious effect of hearing tohru’s talk abt “ videos & memories of loved ones” is 1000 times stronger & more human than a cliche effect of seeing a “ hat” & to revive a a blocked memory... What the hell!! truly disgusting how the emotional weigh is reduced for stupid cliche drama !!!!!! ..

Anyway, kyo actively & consciously wanted punishment .He was sure that kyoko blamed him” I wont forgive you” can only mean what it literally means. The purpose of the nightmare is to cause kyo to seek “ emotional death” like kyoko & to loose his path more. It is meant to prepare kyo to refuse tohru even more. Therefore, the pay off at the climax will be better & stronger.

Reading kyo’s inner thoughts will never not be refreshing!!! Also, the slow burn is cooked on low , hot fire , so the pay off will be the most delicious there is!

Side Notes:

I’ve stated my feelings regarding the age gap between kyoko & katsuya in last chapter’s preview post. I’m done with it & won’t let it interfere with my analysis of kyoko nor tohru.

The idea of just being together as a fun hanging out activity without being bothered much of where reminds ms so much of kyo & tohru!! we see them being happy together in the anime in kazuma’s house, shigure’s rooftop, cooking pancake in the kitchen! I really like this domestic feel of romance! it contradicts the notion of expensive restaurant with the girl wearing a breathtaking dress to woo the guy for it to be utterly romantic as we see in movies, & other stories.

NGL, katsuya looked sexy waiting home.. damn it! >_<

I cried watching tohru between her parents, how they acted & how loved she was! T_T. it reminded me of my niece How her dad’s death affected her! She was the apple of his eyes.. T_T.

Tohru is indeed a rice ball! her dad gave her a masculine name while tohru is so feminine! his reasoning is “finding salty taste in sweet things make the taste better & stronger, kinda giving it a hidden flavour”, the rice ball has a pickle inside it & it’s what makes the taste so savory & delicious!

Grandpa’s “ chance meetings could lead to variety of outcomes, good or bad” YES! kyo/tohru/yuki meeting each other by chance. Fiction make it look weird, but trust me, real life has those by dozens!

“ i wonder how lost you’ll be, how much time you’ll need to get your answer”. He will screw up so bad, kyoko! it will be so good! one of the best screw up’s I’ve seen! so painful for him & tohru & amazingly written!

Kyo’s nightmare being connected to him remembering/dreaming of kyoko’s story is bigger effect than opening the ep with it & having the cause be sth that happened last ep, a week ago... the effect is NOT the same.

Momiji is so cute!!! did his curse break here or not yet? he seemed as tall as tohru.

Writing tohru worried abt kyo after seeing him pale is the tohru I know!! Not that stupid girl who watches the guy she loves have a panic attach in se3, ep6, then goes in ep 7...” dahhhh.. Jeez.. I duno why kyo is sleeping until now.. better laugh & make cute rice cakes” giggle giggle...That scene got me so furious even when I first saw it!! THIS IS NOT TOHRU! tohru cried for a stupid story that haru told abt puppets!! she’ll forget the person she challenges herself for is sick?! ugh!

I love seeing yuki & kyo chill & cool around each other.

Kyoko being fully dependent on katsuya can be a factor in her grief, but I’ve seen cases where both partners are independent but still be completely broken after the others’ death. Grief isn’t logical at all & is extremely personal.

[fictionkinfessions]

I miss discussing books with Fischl.. debating the major themes and who shouldve been with who and which scenes were well written and which the author rushed just to finish the book. I miss digging out random books on the most obscure topics to prove that the author didnt research thier source material well enough, and Fischl groaning and telling me that it doesnt matter because the inaccuracies made the story fun.

I miss having to explain complicated plots of the books to Bennett. Then having to tell him that no, whatever mystical plot it had isnt actually real, and no Oz talking just like the animals in the book doesnt mean all animals can talk. Ect ect ect.

I miss when Fischl and I got to meet Xingqiu. And we tore into his book like little demons. And he appreciated all the criticism. He even took notes.

I miss him staying in Mond for a few weeks and joining us for a few book discussion sessions.

I miss mom gently shaking me awake in the early morning after falling asleep in the library studying.. I miss having to lecture her about not overworking herself with her permanent injuries. I even miss her laughter as she dismissed how serious it was. I noticed pretty easily when she leaned extra heavy on her cane. She thought I didnt. But Im her son, and what kind of son would I have been if I wasnt as smart as my mother. Adoptive or not.

I.. miss a lot right now. But. Unfortunately? My newly discovered life is an au. One that I've never seen anyone else dabble with. One I created myself from rightful anger over my original timeline.

I wish I could say I was new to this feeling. Of having sourcemates of your loved ones around you who dont even recognize you? Because youre not the version they remember? I suppose thats how kinning obscure/original au's goes though. Nobody ever remembers you properly. Been through it too many times. This one isnt new. But it hurts less at the moment I'll admit that.

Short explanation is I'm Razor. Sure don't sound like him with how Im talking but- Well the new au is a bit stronger than Razor's original timeline, so theres alot less third person talk and more full sentences. I never got lost this time. Parents left me in Varkas care after they died, he passed me off to jean and Kaeya because hes a fucking deadbeat who doesnt understand kids unless he's teaching them to hold weapons, and Lisa adopted me after she returned from Sumeru.

It's a fun timeline so far. definitely a step up from the original. It's nice not wanting to strangle a man over leaving me in the woods for a decade. (Yeah og tl is NOT happy abt that one, Varka. Its all I ever scream abt when Im shifted.) It's nice having a Razor shift that doesnt make me feel braindead or angry (really can hardly think in the normal ones, when I do its about how idiotic Varka was.)

I just wish other people seemed as interested in it as I seem to be. At least my friends don't seem to be responding much when I ramble about the new memories.. I dont think anyone has thought of this au. Almost wish other people would acknowledge what Varka did to canon me so this kinda au would exist a bit more.

Maybe after the festival next patch people will open their eyes a bit more.

Anyway- This went on much longer than I intended, ended up rambling when I just wanted to miss my loved ones hah- Sorry for the long post everyone.

~Razor Minci 🐺📚 (Please leave the last name out of the kin tags mpc, its a timeline specific thing, canon name for proper tagging is just "Razor")

[cinnamontoastandtears]

random fic time

so, i got a request for a mcharrison teddy boy era first kiss, and putting aside how long it took me to write it, i also messed it up a little by turning it into a bit of an angst fest and making it way too plotty (must be riding my high from the other george/paul fic lmao) but i wanted to give this to y’all anyway so: here you go !!

(to the anon that requested the first kiss in the first place, dw, i’m going to write you another)

warning: drunkenness and a brief description of nausea

George stumbled up the steps with big thunks, feet heavy from the whiskey in his system, whiskey in his system because he’d been drinking alone.

Paul had been too busy with John to go out with him. Perfect John, with his perfect fucking hair, and his not-so-perfect guitar playing that even Paul, ever the perfectionist, seemed to love.

So George drank alone. And now he was coming back to the hotel alone, arms empty and mind clouded so he didn’t have to think about who he wished was in them. The view of their floor greeted him before he was ready to meet it and a groan left his lips.

He composed himself against the peeling wallpaper for a few minutes before steeling himself and trudging into the room he shared with Paul.

He found the slightly older man alone, surprisingly, strumming away on his guitar, fingers flashing and angry and not caring that they were making discordant sounds.

“Where’s John?” he muttered, letting the door slam behind him.

“With Stu,” Paul bit out, strumming hard again.

Oh. Right.

George had forgotten he wasn’t the only one that could be jealous. (Or something like that, it wasn’t that he was so jealous anyway, but-)

“Hmm,” George said, flopping down onto his bed. His stomach hated him for that, churning and sending a brief taste of bile to the back of his throat. “Guess you an’ I are one in the same then, eh?”

Paul stopped playing. George replayed his last words back over in his head, taking a minute to let it dawn on him. He shouldn’t have said that.

There came the sound of Paul moving his guitar to the side of the bed, and then more shuffling George’s deaf-from-a-crowded-bar ears couldn’t interpret. So late an hour, so complicated of feelings. His head felt like a brick.

Paul must have stood up in the lengthy amount of time it took George to figure all those sounds out (the shucking of a jacket and belt and shoes), for he was then standing over George’s bed, looking threatening as a shadow in the dark room.

“What do you mean?”

“What?”

“What did you mean, ‘we’re one in the same’?”

George knew. He knew what Paul meant, the question he was asking without even fuckin asking it, bitter with only half-wisdom on his side. (Paul was wise enough to figure himself out, not quite enough for other people. Though, of course, he was still a teenager, so there may have been lack of maturity involved as well.)

“Jus’…” George started, heaving his upper half from where it had finally rested comfortably on the lumpy mattress. “Jus’…”

He’d never been good at putting his feelings right. Never been good at explanations or confrontation or any of the shit you were supposed to be able to say to someone when you felt violated or when you wanted something. So maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sheer-fucking-unfairness, but something deep inside made George gather all his feelings and spit them out of his mouth.

“You’re not the only one who gets to act jealous an’- an’ be a prick to everyone because of it. You do it too! Don’t be sittin’ there all stupid an’ angry and envious when you’re just as bad as John leavin’ with Stu to do god-knows-what. That’s not fuckin’ fair.”

George got the impression he sounded whiny, so he closed his mouth, not wanting to give Paul any reason to call him a child or immature or anything so harsh. (Barely nine months. Barely nine months and he felt entitled to treat him like that.)

“What…?” Paul’s face wasn’t clear to George even though he’d shifted and his feet were in between Paul’s feet and he was looking up at his face. This didn’t mean that he didn’t know the exact expression that was etched there.

Ticked brow, slanted mouth, bottom lip pulled slightly in. George had studied this face at length. He knew how it looked when confused.

“I’m here, fuckin’ off by myself while you’re out with John, givin’ each other a hand or some utter bullshite like that, leavin’ me alone. An’ that’s why it’s not fuckin’ fair for me to come home an’ you to be awake an’ upset an’ goin’ ‘what?’ like you don’t fuckin’ know exactly what.”

If George was the type of person who cried, he’d be in tears by now, he’d be ugly-crying and sniveling and shit and Paul probably would’ve backed away instead of doing what he did instead, which was to sink down next to George on the bed and sigh.

“I…” he started, then stopped. It almost made sense. Such an eloquent person, yet when the quiet one spoke up, all his words lost. “How do you feel about me then?” he asked instead, turning the burden of talking back to George.

The room was still dark, his head was still fogged, Paul’s shoulder brushed his and he shuddered. That should’ve said it all, really.

“What do you mean?” he asked, unintentionally mirroring Paul’s question from earlier.

“You’re jealous of me-“

“I’m jealous of John.”

“Oh. Well… right, well, jealous of him then.” Paul paused again like he was going to say something else. “For…?”

“For replacin’ me.”

“Oh.”

“Continue,” George offered, motioning with his hand.

“You’re jealous of John… for replacin’ you… an’ you’re angry at me for bein’—“ George wondered if he’d admit it, “—jealous of Stuart.” If George was a bit more sober he’d be impressed. “So I just wanna know what you think of me. Are you angry or do you wish that you were in John’s place, gettin’ to be with me like…”

George’s brain alerted him to a tone that hadn’t been in Paul’s voice before. Something almost flirtatious, walking a dangerous line between something he wanted and something he wasn’t sure he wanted. He’d always just wanted to be close to Paul. Who wouldn’t want that? But this close, what the way his hands reaching down into the gap between his and Paul’s thighs implied, this close he’d never thought of before. (And so what if that was a lie, it wasn’t like everyone was telling the truth tonight.)

“George?” Paul asked, letting George lace their fingers together.

“This is what I think of you,” he said, instead of answering the not-really-question, and put his other hand on Paul’s cheek.

“What—?”

“You known exactly what.” And George kissed him.

He hadn’t had many kisses in his life time, exactly, but enough to know when a kiss was good. Kissing Paul was good. Not right, something this taboo couldn’t possibly be right, but good nonetheless, heavenly somehow, Paul’s favorite—perfect.

Paul’s lips were soft and small and wet, and George couldn’t believe he was kissing them, that their lips were the ones meeting and not Paul and John’s like they always threatened to. Then Paul pulled away just a second to breathe, gasping and moaning just the tiniest bit, which sent George’s mind away, leaving him unprepared for when Paul dove in again.

George pushed him down into the mattress and Paul let him and Paul was letting him, and he was kissing back and…

They pulled away eventually and George rolled off of Paul’s chest, not wanting to crush him with his… well he didn’t weigh much so it might have been fine, but even still.

“That’s how I feel about you,” he managed to say, voice the tiniest bit wrecked from kissing for so long.

“I… me too… how I feel about you too,” Paul said, sounding like he was in a dream, somewhere far away.

This confused George. He’d only just figured out he felt for Paul this way, and didn’t he… didn’t John and Paul…

“What about John?”

“What about him?” Paul asked.

“Don’t you… how do you feel about him?”

George felt Paul turn toward him, so he turned too, and they were facing with each other and this was confrontation, a thing George wasn’t good at.

“I don’t… me an’ John are friends, Georgie. That’s it.”

“But you… but why…” There were several things that didn’t make sense about this. If Paul really liked him, wanted to kiss him and be with him, why did he spend all his time with John? Why did he ignore George, why was he only even here in their room because John was with Stuart?

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s still not fair,” George whispered, pretending that tears weren’t pricking his eyes. (And maybe he was the kind of person who cried.) “You can’t be tellin’ me you feel this way about me an’ then ignore me an’ be mopey when John’s gone. You can’t do that, Paul. What is that kinda shit?”

“I…” Paul started, then stopped again, losing his eloquence all over. “I don’ know…”

That wasn’t good enough. George said so and Paul’s eyebrows turned into each other and George wondered how he could save this friendship.

He didn’t have any time to think about that though because Paul kissed him again, and he wanted this, and this was what he wanted… wasn’t it?

“Paul…” George pulled away from the kiss. (How could something that felt so good be so bad and wrong and-)

“George, I don’ know how to explain myself. Maybe I was jus’ so scared that you were gonna reject me that I spent all my time with John to avoid that. But I promise, really, I promise, Geo, I don’ feel this way about John.”

The thing was, George wasn’t sure if he believed him. He wasn’t sure he was supposed to. But… Paul looked at him again, and the room was dark, and his eyes were shining, and they were alone.

So if they kissed a few more times or fell asleep in the same bed together, that would be enough right now. (And if John and Stuart came back the next morning, John’s collarbone littered with suspicious marks… Well, Paul wore them too, and George could lose a bit of the green in his eyes.)