#but because they keep calling her mother it hadn't hit me that her name is lilly

[hurlumerlu]

Wait it just hit me

another stealth Shakespeare reference?

[flamingpudding]

All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with

To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie

She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures

She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate

She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting

Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed

When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits

Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him

Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad

This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry

Oh I love this! Thanks you!

This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~

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Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"

Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.

Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"

Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"

"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.

"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.

"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."

Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"

"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.

"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.

"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"

The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.

"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.

"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.

"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.

"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."

"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.

"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"

"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.

"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.

"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."

"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."

"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.

The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."

The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.

On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.

"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.

Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"

"Lassie..."

"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.

Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"

"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.

"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"

"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.

The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."

"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.

"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.

"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.

"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."

There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.

The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.

Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.

[brotherwtf]

was talking with @hogans-heroes last night and I fear I need to bring my age gap au back with a little bit of Gale explaining his trauma to John

some small tw for implied domestic abuse, homophobic language and some suicidal thoughts

----

"Gale, baby how are you doing?" John asks and Gale can feel the emotions well up in his stomach, tears well up in his eyes.

John had been home for a month now, and Gale had barely let John out of bed, had barely let him out of his sight because of how much Gale had missed him. It was terrible, that year that John was gone, and Gale was so glad to have him back.

His mother had died when John was overseas, and with no one to fuel his gambling addiction his father had come crawling back into his life, begging for money. Gale refused, turning him away at the door and refusing to open it, even when his father banged on it and called him names, wishes he was dead just like his whore mother. And while Gale kept strong, didn't answer the door or his calls, it brought back everything from his childhood. The smell of alcohol, his father's firm hand, the bruises and cuts, it all came back to him like he was reliving the nightmare.

And John wasn't around to help him, he wasn't there to comfort Gale or help him forget when all of this had happened, he was overseas in a dangerous war and Gale wasn't sure he was going to come back alive. So when John had come back, he hadn't let go of him for a second.

So when John asked how he was doing, he couldn't help but cry.

John instantly leaped into action, wrapping his arms around Gale and shushing him, expression afraid but comforting, leaning his cheek against Gale's forehead as he cries into his arms.

"Hey, hey, Gale, it's okay baby, it's okay, come on, tell me what's wrong," John says and Gale doesn't even know where to begin, everything is wrong right now.

Gale heaves something pathetic, tears streaming down his face in hot steaming trails and he clutches John's shirt, hates that there's wet patches staining them.

"My daddy... he didn't start drinking until I was at least five. Before then he was almost a good father, stern with my mother but never to me, would smile at me, taught me how to ride a bike, took me on walks to the lake, all of the things fathers should do," Gale starts and he can feel John tense, knows that he's going to hear the full extent of what happened to Gale.

John only saw bits and pieces, he saw the bruises and saw Gale's father hit him once, heard about his terrible acts through his mother, but Gale had never told him the full story, didn't want John to leave him because of what his father had done to him.

"But then he started to drink, and he started to gamble. He wasted all of our money, he lost his job, he used all of Mama's money just to waste it all away at the pony tracks or the slot machines. He would always give me a smile with the money in his hand, 'Gale, this time I can feel it,' he would always say to me. And then he would come home with less money than he left, and he would blame me and my mom,"

Gale can feel John's hands shaking with slight tremors, clenching, and he knows John's thinking about splitting the man in two, but he stays, sitting and listening to Gale.

"He said we were the reason he was so unlucky, if it wasn't for us he'd be rich, and he would slap my mama for spending money on clothes for the both of us, would beat her when she didn't make dinner properly. He didn't start hitting me until I started to defend her, I was a fool back then, I raised my voice and tried to protect her, but that only meant he raised the fist towards me instead,"

"And when I got older, didn't quite fill out as much as he did, he started calling me names, called me a queer, a fairy, a fag, all while slapping me and punching me and bruising me if I even looked at him wrong, I learned to keep my head down around him or he would find an excuse to beat me right alongside my mom," Gale sighs, and while the tears have stopped he can still feel himself trembling.

John sighs heavily, pressing his cheek to Gale's forehead and holding him even tighter, moving his thumb back and forth in a comforting manner. God, how Gale had missed this comfort over the past year. He needed John, that's the conclusion he's come to.

"He had beaten us so viciously that the teachers at school noticed, asked if I was okay. And I was just a teenager, so I was angry and frustrated and turned away their help, said I could handle it on my own, but each day it just kept getting worse and worse until one day I told my mom I couldn't take it anymore. Either I was going to kill him, or I was going to kill myself," Gale says and he can feel John's arms tighten at the words.

"It was a really dark time in my life, all throughout high school I was depressed and traumatized, could barely get through the school day without thinking of a way I could easily off myself, I thought of everything. And everyday when I would get home with my father still drunk or babbling about some grand plan he had, it only made the thoughts worse. The only thing that kept me going was that I had a chance to get out of there, if I kept my grades up and applied for scholarships I could leave,"

"And I graduated, by some miracle I graduated high school, and I won a scholarship to go to school, almost a full ride. And then my father found it, I stupidly left it in my room instead of directly depositing it and he found it, came up to me one day and grabbed my hair, asked if I thought I was smart enough to go to school, to handle this kind of money, and he hit me, beat me until I bled, called me stupid and a whore for keeping the money from him, for not telling him I was going to leave to go to college, and that's when my mother found me. This was about a week after I met you," Gale says and he looks up to meet John's gaze.

It's furious but glassy, John had obviously been crying but he can see the anger running through him at how selfish his father was. He doesn't speak, allowing Gale the space to continue.

"She grabbed the scholarship from him, thank God, and pushed him off of me the best she could. He was so drunk that he could barely stand and I was able to get out, ran into the street and begged, just begged for a car to hit me, so I could be out of my misery. But my mom had run after me, pulled me back onto the driveway and hugged me, sobbed with my scholarship in her hand, and said she was going to get help. This was coming to an end. And that's when you showed up and saved me," Gale whispers.

John pulls away from Gale at that moment and stares at him, and Gale can see the tears welling up in his eyes. Gale smiles tight lipped, feeling the same tears in his own.

"Saved you? Gale... baby," John says and Gale just leans forward to hug him again.

"I don't know what I would have done without you, John. Those days we spent together helped me take my mind off of my father, it was the first time I was genuinely happy in years. Yes, you saved me John," Gale says and he can feel himself sobbing again.

And now John's sobbing too, hands clenched in Gale's shirt as he cries into his shoulder, deep convulsing sobs at the words. They cry together, sobbing and holding onto each other for what feels like hours.

John pulls away, sniffing and cupping Gale's cheek with his hand, pressing a lingering kiss that tastes salty to his lips.

"And I'm so glad I did, Gale. I can't imagine a world without you in it, I love you so damn much," John says, and Gale smiles again, trying not to start crying again.

"I love you too, John," Gale says, and he lets himself be held by John, not ever wanting to let go.

[nevertheless-moving]

From This AU (you might want to skim this for context on canon divergence), with thoughts and beta from @sorchasolas and @magentasomething

"Thank you again, Adolin,” Shallan said. “This was perfect — exactly what I needed to get restarted on some of my natural studies."

Kaladin rolled his eyes at the lighteyed chatter, trying yet again to tune them out.

It was a bit easier now that they were away from that menagerie; the moving crowds provided plenty of threats to draw his attention. Harder, because that also meant he had to stay close, which unfortunately meant hearing the two simper at one another.

His mind wandered again to Amaram, in his golden cloak.

So much for coming forward as radiant. His stomach churned.

"Kaladin," Syl said softly, floating beside his shoulder.

He shook his head, not looking at her, forcing himself to focus. For some storming reason, the Davar woman had insisted on walking back through Sebarial's camp to be escorted to her quarters, wanting to take the 'scenic' route.

On one level he was glad — an alternative arrangement might have led to sharing a carriage with Wit or Dalinar or Amaram —

He shook his head again. Threats, I’m  supposed to be focusing on threats. My job right now is keeping Adolin Kholin alive. Focus on that. He scanned the lighteye marketplace: shops selling exotic fabrials, winehouses with noxious colored wines, lofty conversations containing sphere totals that could buy his hometown.

Snippets of conversation buffeted him.

"That horrendous scarf, I can't believe he actually thought that shade of green—"

"I know! Humiliating isn't it? So last—"

"Tell me more about this one?"

"Fine taste, my esteemed citizen, very fine taste. All the way from—"

"I'm terribly sorry, Brightlady, but I'm afraid you've been misinformed.  We've been just as hard hit for supply by the... unpleasantness as anywhere else."

"Oh dear. So hardly any for sale?

Kaladin froze, turning back quickly.

No. Impossible. It can't have been her voice.

She's dead.

They're all dead.

He spun back to his charges, cursing when he realized how far ahead they had gotten. He jogged to catch up, pushing through the crowd.

Adolin turned over his shoulder to glance at him, frowning at his expression. 

"Something the matter, bridgeboy?" The tone was light, but his eyes scanned the surroundings warily, hand slightly to the side.

"No," Kaladin answered brusquely. "Apologies, Brightlord, I thought I heard something, but was mistaken."

Adolin nodded, then turned back to Shallan. They only moved forward a few steps when he heard her again.

"Kaladin!"

Great, now he was imagining her calling his name. He tightened his hands on his spear, not turning back. It had to be in his head. He hadn't been getting enough sleep. Wit, The Whitespine in that cage, Amaram, Amaram being named Radiant — the day had rattled him.

"Kal!" 

Adolin and Shallan stopped for some reason, turning back, looking...over his shoulder?

"Someone you know, bridgeboy?" Davar said with a bemused expression.

"Kaladin!"

Kaladin turned slowly, looking behind him, but all he saw was a crowd of lighteyes and rich citizen merchants. One Brightlady was pushing her way through the throngs of people towards their position.

She looked...familiar. Had he seen her in Sadeas's camps? He blinked. Something about her face didn't make sense. And her voice. She opened her mouth.

"Kaladin!"

The Brightlady had his mother's voice.

And face, older, with unfamiliar eyes but...it was her. She was calling his name.

His mind went blank.

- - - 

"Someone you made angry?" Adolin asked, but the captain didn't seem to even notice the question. None of that funny wrinkled nose or slightly bulging forehead vein when he said something annoying.

"Captain?" Adolin asked, starting to get concerned at the way the man was white knuckling his spear. He didn't reply, and the look on his face... it was more haunted than before, after, or during their fight with the Assassin.

He looked back at the unfamiliar Brightlady; she didn't look like a threat, but...

"Adolin," Shallan whispered urgently, leaning in. "I overheard her when we were walking by. She's a slave trader, I think I heard her say she's in the Shattered Plains looking to buy, since the rebellions have disrupted trade elsewhere." 

Adolin felt a sinking sensation in his gut.

"Captain?" Adolin asked more softly. "Is she...did she used to..."

He didn't finish the sentence. The bridgeman clearly wasn't looking his direction. Despite her height, it would be a stretch to call the woman physically intimidating. Adolin had never been property before. But he did know how cruel Brightladies could be to anyone they considered beneath them for any reason, worse for those of low dahn, worse again for servants. He didn't want to think about how terrible some might be to slaves, those without even a shadow of protection under the law...

Shallan was looking at the former Bridgeman with concern.

"I'll take care of this," Adolin muttered to the both of them, stepping in front of the still unresponsive guard.

"Kal! It is you!" The woman cried, nearly upon them.

"Brightlady!" Adolin said cheerfully, stepping forward and tactfully blocking Kaladin from view with his bulk. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of being introduced. I see you're familiar with my Captain of the Guard. My name, as you may know, is Adolin Kholin, Heir to the Kho—"

A boulder, or a chull — something suddenly hit him. He was airborne a moment, before hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

He scrambled to his feet, heart already pounding for his Shardblade. A distraction for their guard, and an attack, it must have been planned — Shallan, she —

He blinked starspren from his eyes, looking around for attackers. But all he saw was the Brightlady — hugging the bridgeboy? And —- the bridgeboy was hugging her back?

"Mom?" Captain Kaladin said, and Adolin didn't think he'd ever heard that much emotion in the man's voice. 

"You're...alive?" the Captain whispered, just loud enough for Adolin to overhear. Yellow shockspren formed, breaking around him.

Adolin blinked again, not thinking right now about why those words sent a pang through his heart.

He stepped up beside Shallan, who was staring wide eyed at two, clinging to each other for dear life in the middle of the thoroughfare.

She wasn't the only one; they had drawn a bit of a crowd — the two cut fairly noticeable figures. A Brightlady and a shashbranded darkeyes crying in each others’ arms, both a good foot taller than the average passerby.

"Did — did the bridgeboy knock me over because I got in the way of him seeing his mother?" Adolin muttered to Shallan, only slightly indignant.

He perhaps should be angrier but...another pang went through him as he looked at the pair.

"No, actually," she replied absently.

"Then what—"

"His mother knocked you over. Guess she hadn't seen her son in a while and wasn't going to let anyone stand in her way, not even a highprince's son."

Adolin looked down at Shallan.

"...You're joking," he said finally.

Shallan coughed in her hand, not meeting his eyes. "I'm not actually."

Adolin squinted at her.

"I swear! It was..." she waved her freehand in a dramatic sweeping motion. "She sent you flying! It was... very surprising!"

She coughed into her hand again, and he strongly suspected she was laughing at him. He just wasn't sure if it was because of the lie, or because a distracted mother had knocked a Shardbearing Prince aside like crem on a doorframe.

"Begging your pardon, Brightlord," a nearby merchant said. "But she's telling the truth." 

Adolin stared at him, and the man flushed, but held his ground. "It's really not the sort of thing you see everyday, I'm certain I'm not mistaken."

He shrunk back as Adolin continued to look at him.

Damnation, he thought, finally turning away. How strong is that woman? He had only been barely prepared to accept that storming Stormblessed could have knocked him that hard from a standstill let alone—

There is something not normal about that family. 

- - - 

"Mom—how—"

He pulled back, staring into her eyes. Her pale, violet eyes. Had she...gotten a Shardblade? The idea was insane. And yet...

"Kaladin..." she said softly, glancing around them and letting out a small huff.

A brilliant white spren appeared between them, and Kaladin leaned back, staring almost cross-eyed at it.

"My lady wishes me to inform you that she will be happy to explain her appearance at a later date, however—"

"Oh!" Kaladin said, things clicking into place.

"You...understand?" Hesina said hesitantly.

Kaladin nodded, smiling.

Syl zipped between them as well, squealing with delight.

"Ooh! Ooh! I've been wanting to meet you! I mean I've seen you before, because the winds were always with Kaladin, but oh! This is great!"

"You too?" Hesina said, smiling widely. "Of course. Oh, Kaladin."

"He thought you were dead!" Syl said growing uncharacteristically grave. "You never left Hearthstone before. And then Laral said you went to the city, to find him, and never came back, but there were reports of violent riots." Kaladin made a soft noise of agreement.

"You thought that...oh I'm so so sorry Kaladin. We had to look for you. Stormfather, we practically tore the country apart looking for you." Her hands moved up to cup his cheeks, the radiant spren shifting to either side of her arms.

"Is..." He couldn't get the words out.

"Is his father alright?" Syl asked quietly.

"Yes!” the ball of light — what type of spren was she anyway — said proudly. "The father is back in the tall town with the younger siblings."

Kaladin sighed in relief, then gripped his mothers shoulders, gently pressing in.

"Wait, what? Siblings?"

- - - 

“Are they… talking in code?” Adolin asked, bewildered.

Shallan seemed to actually consider the question, which made Adolin feel less stupid, which was nice. She finally shook her head.

“I don’t think so. Not that I can tell anyway, and I have some talent in detecting patterns.”

They continued to talk in maddeningly half finished questions and answers, which the two of them seemed to understand perfectly, going by their reactions. Apparently bridgeboy had believed that both his parents were dead? But they weren't? And he had siblings he didn't know about? 

Adolin hadn't even realized that he had been curious about the man's life.

She cocked her head. “I suppose this explains bridgeboy’s conversational skills, if he’s used to people who can apparently interpret and intend full sentences from and with grunting.”

“Oh, this explains more than that,” Adolin said, a number of bizarre behaviors slotting into place. The way he talked down to everyone, even lighteyes. The education that he had to have had — he had seen the Captain using glyph pairs to send orders through messengers. Storms, the way he carried himself. Adolin grinned. Yes, a Brightlady mother explained a lot, though not everything.

He was going to enjoy teasing the rest out of him.

Shallan seemed to have the same thought, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said demurely. “But perhaps you would care to join us in our walk, Brightlady…”

She paused leadingly, but Stormblessed’s mother just smiled.

“Please, call me Hesina.”

Not sharing a family name, Adolin thought in exasperation. Of course she’s as mysterious as her son.

“I’m afraid I really do need to check back with the rest of my party,” Hesina said, and he could see Kaladin’s hands tighten around hers.

“Well, we should be safe enough, if you want to take the rest of the day, b — Captain.”

“No,” the man said. He glanced around, glaring at the crowd. Several people bustled immediately into motion as his eyes fell upon them, and soon enough traffic was flowing fairly normally. Adolin rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure the king would have had a hard time — that was probably a bad example. He was fairly sure his father would have had a hard time clearing a group of gawkers like that, with sheer presence alone.

Hesina chuckled. “I’ve seen you’ve grown into your father’s disapproving glare. Ha! Oh, Kal you won’t believe who he stared down a few months back.”

Stormblessed, to Adolin’s delight, seemed to flush at that, lips twisting upwards into what one, if they were being a bit generous, could call a smile. “He’s well then? You — and my younger —“ Kaladin’s expression seemed to stutter at that.

“We’re all well,” she said softly, and Adolin's heart shouldn’t be aching this badly. It really shouldn’t. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her son’s forehead. Adolin looked away, feeling out of place. Shallan continued staring at the two of them, with…hunger in her eyes. A deep longing, that passed in a moment, smoothed over by genteel patience. If he hadn’t been looking right at her at that exact moment, he would have missed it.

“I’m sorry mother, I really do need to get back to my duty now.”

“I’ll find you later. We’ll talk about… everything. Oh my sweet boy. Kaladin. I knew we’d find you.” She smiled again, eyes watery, then pulled away.

Their hands stayed clasped until the last moment, arms stretching as they both stepped back, fingers reluctant to let go. Then she turned, quickly slipping back into the crowd, then turned a corner, and was gone.

Kaladin stared in the direction she had came around for a long moment, then turned back, face and posture stiff.

“Apologies for the interruption, Brightlord Kholin, Brightlady Davar.”

Adolin rolled his eyes. “I think, under the circumstances, I can forgive a small dereliction of duty.”

“Provided, of course,” Shallan added lightly. “You tell us all about your charming, brightlady mother.”

She clasped his arm with her freehand, then started slowly pulling him along into the current of traffic.

Adolin raised an eyebrow at her, and she jerked her head firmly.

Storms, where has this woman been all my life.

He pressed into the other side of the captain, slinging an arm around his shoulder so he couldn’t move behind or in front of them. The man, incredibly, grew even stiffer as they walked at a leisurely pace towards the Sabrial Manor.

“This is not an effective position for me to protect you from,” he said grimly as he was dragged forward.

“Less efficient than when you were frozen in place? Or having a touching family reunion in a crowded marketplace?” Shallan said, and Adolin winced slightly. She probably didn’t realize how seriously the man took his job.

Bridgeboy grunted as if wounded.

“Besides, this is perfect! You’re guarding my right, Adolin’s left. You don’t have to strain to hear what we’re saying to make fun of us; we don’t have to strain to hear your mean spirited snorts of derision.”

Bridgeboy grunted again, but Adolin wasn’t sure how to interpret it.

“So…” she said, sounding thoughtful. “She seemed rather well appointed to be a tenner. But anything higher must have been quite the scandal.”

He felt Stormblessed’s shoulders flex under his arm, and for one insane moment he actually thought he was going to attack Shallan.

Adolin cleared his throat. “That must have been…good though, right? I mean…it sounded like you thought she was dead. It must have been good. To see her.”

He grunted again, and Adolin felt a sharp, possibly disproportionate spike of annoyance. He brought his right hand around to poke the Captain in the cheek.

“Come on! That’s not enough to get you to crack a smile? You just learned your mother is alive!”

The Captain froze, soulcast to stone for all Adolin would be able to get him to move forward. Shallan stumbled.

Kaladin bent over slightly, breath escaping as if punched out. Adolin watched in somewhat sick fascination as emotions passed over his face, each clear as the purelake, intense as a high storm.

Grief, Rage, Confusion. Joy, Relief, Delight, Disbelief. Relief again, Pain, Guilt, Pain, Love.

Emptionspren flickered around him, disappearing too quickly to register as anything more than shifting light. He was vaguely surprised the man didn’t fall fully to his knees. Adolin felt dizzy just watching someone feel that hard. It reminded him of Renarin, before he learned to draw in on himself, boxing out the world.

“They’re alive…” Stormblessed whispered, hunching over further. “They didn’t die. They’re alive.” Tears streamed freely down his face, and another small crowd started to clump up. This time Adolin glared them away, waiting for the man to gather himself.

When the Captain straightened, Adolin guided their group to a nearby alleyway, where it would be at least harder for passersby to watch and listen.

“Well?” The Captain finally snapped, voice hoarse. “Going to mock me now? Ask if I’m a bastard? Threaten to have me fired for unprofessional behavior?”

He glared, red-eyed, at Shallan, then Adolin.

Adolin flinched, but didn’t look away, and neither did she.

“No,” Shallan whispered. Her eyes were…haunted. Ever-present smile gone. “No. I shouldn’t have made light of this. I’m sorry...I used to dream about my mother coming back…about it all being a misunderstanding. About us being a family again. I can only imagine how much you’re feeling right now.”

Kaladin’s eyes widened as he looked at her, apparently surprised by what he found there.

That pang from earlier ripped through his heart. So that’s what it was. “Me too,” he said, roughness in his own voice surprising him. “It didn’t make sense that political dissidents… I just kept waiting to hear that it was a mistake and there was some…”

He cleared his throat, wiping at suddenly burning eyes.

“I didn’t,” Kaladin whispered. “I…thought something must have happened to them. I thought it almost as soon as I left home. Our Brightlord…a part of me was sure they would be dead If I ever made it back. Couldn’t afford to get letters back, so I just sort of…lived with the dread. Figured if I didn’t confirm anything at least I could hold onto a shred of hope. I tried not to think about them when I was…after the army. I couldn’t. Then, when I finally got free… and I learned more about the riot. I had heard that houses — I thought maybe I might be actually able to help, if they were in trouble. And I had real money for the first time…

He shuddered.

“I hired a spanreed... Laral said they went to look for me. They never left town before that. Never. And as soon as they did…to try and find me, somehow pay my slave debt even though that would have been impossible…” His voice grew bitter. “That was right at the start of the first riots in Sadeus. When they didn’t return, the town assumed they must have been caught up in the madness and killed. I thought they died because of me. Just like — just like everyone always—"

He laughed hoarsely, and Adolin didn’t know what to do, what to say in response to the terrible noise. He just gripped Kaladin’s shoulder more firmly.

Kaladin tensed, but didn't shake him off. “I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to you.”

“The sorrow,” Shallan said softly.

Her voice grew so quiet Adolin couldn’t hear. He moved closer to her, reaching for her gently, not letting go of Kaladin, turning their awkward line into a small huddle.

"— feeling hope become stringy sinew and blood beneath your fingers as everything collapses?”

“Yes," Kaladin whispered.

Shallan looked up at Adolin, then blanched, turning to face the cobblestones.

When she looked back up, she was smiling, and it was beautiful — the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He felt Kaladin draw in a surprised breath.

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing. They felt warm beneath Adolin's hands, and he didn't try to look for words.

Then a carriage clattered by, and the moment ended.

Kaladin cleared his throat, pulling away. Shallan arranged herself properly on Adolin's arm. The two of them left the alley, walking calmly, ignoring any curious eyes.

Bridgeboy trailed close behind, and the short rest of the walk to Shallan's residence went uneventfully, without any more words on the matter of mothers, without very many words at all.

Adolin waited until he was saying goodbye to Shallan to glance at the Captain again.

He was staring into the air, smiling.

Another pang went through Adolin's heart. He ignored it.

[moiravim]

Blonde Hair

PLATONIC brother!Draco x reader

Summary: Yn is the daughter of Regulus Black but was quickly taken in and adopted by Narcissa. YN is extremely insecure, but her brother Draco is always there for her. (Second person)

Warnings: YN has dark hair, fem YN, mention of blood

1.3k words

Your father, Regulus had died before you ever met him and your mother died during childbirth. The closest thing you had to a family was always the Malfoys. But even after having your last name changed Lucius had always called you 'yn black'.

You grew up feeling like you had no family and the only person who had ever made you feel any differently was Draco.

Draco always made sure you felt loved. You'd always been close and would always play together as kids.

As you grew older Draco had realized how you feel. It made no sense to him because he had always seen you as his real sister and he didn't get why you saw it any differently.

Your first year of Hogwarts was coming up and you were horrified. You wanted everyone to see you as a 'real' Malfoy. Lucius had gifted you an amulet which would change your darker hair to platinum blonde.

The amulet was a large oval with a glowing mist-like substance inside. It hung from a thick silver chain, worn as a necklace.

You were obsessed with it since the moment it was gifted to you. "YN, really... You don't have to wear that stupid necklace! You were perfectly fine without it!! No one's even here to see you-" Draco complained but you immediately cut him off.

"You just don't understand what it's like not having a family!!" This 'stupid necklace' was the thing keeping me together at the moment. It made me feel like I really did fit in with the Malfoys.

Draco's eyes started to water as his face got red. "I'm your family!" He shouted as a tear slipped down his cheek. He immediately wiped it away and hid his red eyes with his hand.

You felt bad, but you knew he was wrong. He was just trying to make you feel better. He wasn't really your brother. He was your cousin and Narcissa was your Aunt. You had no parents. No brother.

The ambiance of Draco's room continued to become more and more akward. You sigh before hugging Draco and rubbing his back. You didn't want to, but, you knew he'd do the same for you.

He hugs you back tightly as a few more tears fell from his eyes. You hadn't realized at the time he was scared of the same thing you were.

You left his room, going back to your own so you could finish packing. You and Draco left for Hogwarts tomorrow and had to leave early to get to the Hogwarts express.

When you layed in bed, anxiety took over you. 'Everyone would find out I'm not Draco's real sister and they'll all hate me!' you told yourself.

After another hour of restless sleep you sneaked into Draco's room. He was still awake and was writing in his diary. He smiled as he watched you peek into his room.

He pat the spot next to him as he wrote in his journal and you made your way over to him. You sat, resting on your knees. "I can't sleep... I'm scared. What if everyone finds out I'm not your real sister?"

He looks at you sadly. He's obviously tired of hearing about it but you have no one else to express your fears to and he knows it. But the part about you not being his 'real sister' really hits hard.

He was disappointed you didn't see him as a brother, but he was too nervous to say anything. "YN. Everyone will love you. I promise. And even if they don't I'll always be here for you." He says truthfully.

"You really think they'll believe we're siblings?" You ask once more as Draco nods.

You rested your head on his fluffy pillows before happily falling asleep with little to no worries.

You woke up the next morning in your own bed. An outfit was picked out and placed folded on your chair with your amulet on top.

You slowly woke up and got dressed. You hid your amulet under your shirt before leaving your room to go find your brother.

"YN. Your going to be late. Go meet up with Narcissa and Draco. They have your things." Lucius said as you nodded and rushed downstairs.

Lucius eventually met up with the three of you and you left for Hogwarts. When you entered the train you followed Draco to find empty seats.

Eventually a few of Draco's friends found their way to your section and sat with you two. It was fun and for once you could see some resemblance between you and Draco. You swore to yourself in this moment you'd never let anyone see you without your amulet.

A month into the school year and everything has been going great. Your best friend is Pansy, but you also hang out with Draco and his other friends.

Still none of them know your not really Draco's twin and you couldn't be any happier. Sadly it wouldn't last.

You had already made enemies due to your brother. Harry and Ron often picked on you. You didn't blame them though because of how your brother treated them.

"You know, you guys really aren't good people" you stated, tired of their constant bullying. "Says the Malfoy! Your the definition of evil" Ron argues back.

"Don't you dare talk bad about the Malfoy name!" You snapped back. You were close to loosing it. You decided to use your one talent against them.

"Duel me! Two against one! I'll prove you both wrong!"

They laughed, thinking it'd be an easy win but you knew there was no way they'd win.

You yelled out spells, constantly stunning them and blocking their counter spells.

While you were busy fighting Ron, Harry had used flipendo against you. Your body was flung into the wall and you landed roughly on the floor.

You hadn't cared for the glass stabbing into your chest, all you cared about your hair. The platinum blonde hair that was giving you a reason to live.

You sobbed out, curling in on yourself. You were so close to winning, how could things have gotten this bad. Of course you'd underestimated Harry.

You pulled at your hair as your body started to shake. The worst part was all the students watching you fall apart.

Everyone in the school would find out your not Draco's sister. Your life would be ruined.

Your eyes remained slammed shut as you felt someone pull you into their arms. "Shhhh....shhhhh... I'm here. Everything is going to be okay... My sweet sister, you don't deserve this." Draco said as he brushed out the hair you had tangled.

He lifted you up and took you away from the crowds and into the Slytherin common room.

He rested you onto the couch and noticed blood going through your white shirt. He immediately unbuttoned it to see your crushed amulet stabbing into your skin.

Draco's frown deepens as he inspects your cuts. They weren't too bad, but he still felt horrible he wasn't there for you sooner. He wished it never had happened.

He discards the amulet and cleans the blood from you. A few minutes later Pansy rushes in, hugging you as your cries die down.

"Oh, YN! I was so worried, I heard what happened... Harry and Ron truly are horrible" Pansy states as she hugs you tightly.

You smile at her comment. Draco sits next to you and continues to rub your back as you hug Pansy.

"YN, I want to talk to you in private..." Draco says as Pansy nods, giving the two of you some space.

"This changes nothing. You always have been and always will be my sister". You begin to cry at his words and hug him tightly. He hugs you back once more before you leave to get some rest.

A/N: I'm having family problems 💔 also the amulet is based off of the owl house LMAO!!

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Steve’s POV

" . . . I'm going to rip out your parents' decrepit black hearts and show it to them still beating, letting them watch as I slowly crush them both in my hands. . . "

"Jesus, Robin," Steve scoffed.

It was a couple of days later, and they were both in the apartment above the salon. Steve had wanted to get a jumpstart on cleaning the place up and move out of his parents' house as soon as possible. Robin had protested at first because he was still wounded, but Steve wore her down by telling her of his grandfather's journals, which she was currently pouring through. If Nancy were here, she wouldn't give in so easily. Luckily, she was on lockdown at her house. Her mother hadn't been too pleased to find out that both her children had been in the fire and that Nancy had camped out at the hospital without telling her. Meanwhile, Eddie was at home getting his sister settled into her new life.

"This doesn't bother you?" Robin asked.

"Of course, it bothers me," Steve replied.

"Right, stupid question," she said. "How can you be so casual about all of it?"

"I don't know. I guess it's easier to accept the fact that I'm just not really going to have parents that stick around. They either die, or they just leave. It happens," Steve shrugged.

Robin let out a strangled noise, jumped up, and hugged him tightly.

"I'll be your dad!" Robin exclaimed.

"Robin!"

"Dad."

"Robin!"

"Dad!"

"I am not calling you that! You're younger than me!" Steve exclaimed.

Suddenly, there was a loud thunk that came from outside the apartment. Robin jumped away from Steve, her eyes wide.

"What the hell was that?" Robin asked.

"I don't know, stay behind me," Steve said and grabbed a lamp off the table.

They burst out of the apartment and heard the sound of scurrying feet as whoever it was flew out the curtains. Steve and Robin followed them until they heard the voices. They stopped at the curtain when they heard Dustin and Lucas.

"I'm going to my mom, and I'm going to make Steve my brother!" Dustin hissed at Lucas.

"No, I'm going to make Steve my brother!" Lucas exclaimed.

There was a long pause, so long that Steve thought they had left.

"Should we both just talk to each of our parents and make him brother to both of us?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah, that sounds fair," Lucas said.

They heard them walk out the door, and they peered through the curtain before entering the salon.

"What the hell was that about?" Steve asked.

"I think they want to adopt you, Steve," Robin said with a soft smile.

"Either that or kidnap me," Steve said.

"Probably a bit of both," Robin grinned.

They walked back into the apartment, and Steve set the lamp back onto the table. Robin plopped back on the floor again to continue reading the journals. It didn't take her long to finish.

"Ugh!" Robin exclaimed, clutching the journals to her chest.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Your grandparents! Their story is so beautifully poetic and heartbreaking. . .to have your own kid. . . and Steven! Oh my God! Steven! The love of your grandparents' lives but two different kinds of love. . . And you were named after him!" Robin exclaimed. "I never read anything so beautiful. Your grandfather was a wonderful writer."

"Are you going to keep losing it over my grandfather's journals, or are you actually going to help me clean like you promised?" Steve asked.

"Keep losing it," Robin sighed, and Steve glared at her. "Fine. Let's get to work. Meanwhile, we get to talk about your love life. Have you guys set a date yet?"

"Haven't really had time to talk about that," Steve said. "So, no."

"Okay. Well, once you guys get all settled, you guys need to come together and use your senses to find others like us. . .particularly girls for me. Ooh! Eddie can use his powers!" Robin exclaimed.

"One, that wouldn't be an appropriate use of his powers, and second, that would be an invasion of other people's privacy," Steve said. "Also, that's not how Eddie's powers work."

"Damn, you're right, now what?" Robin asked.

"Well, you could get to know people," Steve said.

"That sounds. . .exhausting," Robin sighed. "But I think it's my only option."

They had gotten pretty busy cleaning the place, dancing and singing to the sound of the radio as they did so. They didn't stop until they heard people coming in from downstairs. Steve turned off the radio and walked downstairs with Robin. He pulled back the curtains to find Dustin with his mom and the Sinclairs.

"Oh, Steve, look at you," Claudia cooed and hugged him carely.

"Like I told you the other day, I'm fine, Claudia," Steve said.

"We'll be the judge of that," Sue said.

"Man, it's been a minute since I've been in here," Charles grinned. "You think of opening it in honor of your grandfather?"

"Thinking about it," Steve said with a nod.

"Well, you're a lot like Otis, so I firmly believe that you're going to be a natural just like him," Sue said.

"Oh, you should have seen how Dusty had his hair for the Snow Ball. It was all, thanks to Steve, that it turned out so cute," Claudia said.

"This is actually pretty cool," Erica said, looking up at the artwork on the wall.

"We actually came to see if you needed any help," Sue said.

"You're Robin, yes?" Claudia asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Robin saluted.

"You wouldn't mind, would you, if you brought the kids upstairs while we talked to Steve?" Claudia asked.

"Of course!" Robin exclaimed. "Alright, kiddos, who wants to mock Steve’s old baby pictures?"

The kids followed Robin up the stairs, leaving Steve alone downstairs with the adults.

"Am I in trouble?" Steve asked.

"No, son, this is a good thing," Charles sighed.

"What's this about then?" He asked.

"Your grandfather was a good man, but, of course, you know that your father isn't," Sue scowled.

"Otis couldn't hide how hurt he was when his son turned against him, and despite the fact that John tried to hide it, he clearly hated his father. No one could understand why," Charles said.

"It wasn't anything that Grandpa did. Dad just couldn't stand who Grandpa really was, even though it did nothing to harm anyone. It was just who he was as a person," Steve said softly. "Dad can't stand anyone who's different."

"That is obvious," Sue sighed.

"We heard you were moving out of the house, and we just want you to know that you're our family just as much as our kids," Claudia said.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're our baby as much as Erica and Lucas," Sue said.

"We also wanted you to know that you do have parents who love you," Claudia said.

"You've done so much for your brothers and sister. Erica won't stop going on about how they wouldn't have made it out of that fire if it hadn't been for you," Sue said.

"And you stood up to Hargrove when he attacked Lucas," Charles said.

"You protected all the kids," Claudia said. "You are a good man, Steve. We're so proud of you. We love you."

"I-I love you too," Steve said in shock.

He didn't expect this to happen today, and he was a little overwhelmed by it all. He hadn't received this much affection from a parent since his grandfather had been alive, and it looked like it was going to be something he was going to have to get used to. Claudia smiled and pulled him into a hug, which caused the dam to break. Steve burst into tears. Claudia hugged him tightly, and he felt Sue run her fingers through his hair. Once he stopped crying, he pulled away from both of them allowing Charles to pull him into a hug as well.

"You have a home with all of us, son," Charles said.

"So, none of this Sue, Charles, and Claudia crap. We're mom and dad now," Sue said sternly.

"Okay. . .mom," Steve said.

It left a weird feeling stomach, and Steve knew it would take time to get used to having parents who actually gave a damn.

"Is he our brother now?!" Dustin's voice carried from down the stairs.

"Sorry! I tried to stop them, but they're slippery!" Robin exclaimed.

"Yeah! He's your brother now! Come on down!" Charles said.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and the boys burst through the curtains. Dustin and Lucas threw themselves so hard into Steve’s arms. They nearly knocked him down.

"Careful! He's still healing," Claudia said.

Steve laughed and pushed them off playfully. Erica rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Fine! I guess I'll give you one too," Erica said. "You better not tell anyone."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him a lot more carefully than the boys did. For the complaint that she made, Erica held on a lot longer than Steve thought she would.

"Alright," Sue said. "Let's get started."

"Wait, you were serious about us helping Steve clean up?" Lucas asked.

"You have a problem with helping your brother?" Sue asked, and Lucas quickly shook his head.

"I am allergic to dust," Dustin said. "Hence my name. It's ironic. I can't breathe dust in."

"You are not," Claudia giggled and hit his shoulder.

"Well, I had to try," Dustin said.

Steve laughed, a happy grin on his face as his family helped him clean up his new home and future place together. Despite what happened, things were starting to fall into place for Steve. He had a wonderful boyfriend and a girlfriend, a new best friend, and now, he had wonderful parents who seemed to love him as much as they loved their own flesh and blood children. This was what having a family was supposed to be like: delightfully chaotic. And yet, there was still a part of him that was waiting for the other shoe to drop. . .

Chapter Twelve

[aurumacadicus]

Witchy AU: Tony/Everyone

Everyone's loving witches! Especially me.

Tony is one of the most powerful witches on the east coast. He's also without a coven, which puts him in a very delicate situation where he can't tell if people are kind to him because they're nice or if they're trying to sway him toward their own coven. He knows it will get worse as soon as he turns thirty, when he can no longer hide behind the thirteen years of mourning that comes with being orphaned by his own coven. He knows he's part of the reason they're champing at the bit to get him in their ranks--most Endlings mourned for a few years and then fell into the open arms of their favored coven, wanting the safety of a large group. Tony is really the only one who has actively avoided joining a new coven that he's ever known of. He doesn't want to lose his heritage, is the thing. To enter into a new coven, he'll have to give up his family's legacy, his last name and take their own, and yes--he doesn't want to give up his family's money, either. Call him greedy. He doesn't care. His mother didn't hit the docks with nothing but a suitcase of clothes to her name, and Howard didn't start his business from the ground up by himself, to have it taken away from their child. But he has nothing but his money and powers to bargain with, and that's exactly what everyone wants. So when hears about a coven made up of other Endlings, who have banded together specifically so that they don't have to give up anything, sure, he's a little desperate when he goes to them and offers them free use of his mansion and an allowance from his fortune so long as he gets to keep his name and legacy. "How big is the allowance?" a guy with blond hair asks, and then gets elbowed swiftly in the gut. "I dunno, like five grand?" Tony says, shrugging. "A year? Kinda stingy," the woman who elbowed him says, narrowing her eyes at him. "...A month," Tony corrects, trying not to sound snide and failing. The Avengers agree. And then collectively lose their shit when they realize he meant five grand for each of them every month.

The Avengers move in. Tony doesn't see them, though. He thinks they might be avoiding him? He once found a hot cup of coffee still sitting on the table. He'd puttered around for a few minutes to see if the owner would come back, but they hadn't, so he'd simply taken it to his workshop with him. He's not sure if this is normal? Tony had rarely seen his father before he died, and while he'd seen his mother a little more, she'd always been busy. Maybe this is just how covens work--meeting up only when necessary, and only as long as it took to come to a consensus. But maybe he shouldn't have assumed that, Tony thinks, blinking at the rest of the Avengers, holding a cauldron of inert sleeping potion and wearing nothing but a red thong. "...Oh," Steve finally squeaks. "Tony," Bruce says pleasantly when no one else moves to speak. "Why are you naked?" Tony blinks again. "Better results when I can absorb more moonlight. And I'm not naked." Everyone looks down, then back up very quickly, blushing. Even Natasha has turned vaguely pink. "Naked adjacent," Sam says after clearing his throat. Clint squints skeptically. "Does that really help?" "Well," Tony begins, and then the moon comes out from behind the clouds, and it hits his cauldron. The cauldron sparks, sparkles, then exudes a billowing of steam. Tony inhales some and promptly passes out.

Apparently, everyone was avoiding Tony because they thought he wanted space. Why else would he duck other more established covens to join their ragtag group? Most of them hadn't even had a coven to teach them their powers. He was the one they were taking cues from on how to be a normal coven. "D...don't do that," Tony says, stunned. He doesn't know what a normal coven looks like, because even his own had felt wrong to him. It was another reason he'd been scared of joining one of the established families--he wouldn't know what was normal and was terrified they'd take advantage of him. "Yeah, we figured that out," Steve says, rubbing the back of his head and looking anywhere but at him. Tony looks down at the blanket they've covered him with, then squints back up at Steve skeptically. He's covered. "He's an Artist," Bucky explains, clapping Steve on the shoulder hard enough the blond grimaces. "He's already got your body memorized and I'm sure we're going to find one of his moving portraits in the studio--" "Goodbye, Bucky," Steve says, solemn, and then clotheslines him. Tony watches them wrestle for a moment, then turns his squint on the rest of the coven. "Is this normal?" "Eh," Clint replies, shrugging, as Sam puts his face in his hands with a sigh and Natasha and Bruce watch to make sure they don't actually kill each other. "Well, get used to me walking around in a state of undress," Tony retorts. "Clothes feel bad when I do magic." "Oh no," Natasha deadpans. "However will we cope. I hope Steve plasters moving portraits of your bare ass all over the mansion." "You can see it any time you want," Tony answers snidely. "I'm easy."

Now that they know they're welcome, the rest of the Avengers are happy to seek him out to chat. Tony has no idea how they've survived this long. Steve's magic fluctuates wildly, and Bucky's sometimes dims to an ember. Bruce's is based in alchemy, and he rarely practices it safely. Natasha and Clint are secretive about what, exactly, their magic can do, but Tony has noticed more spiders in the corners of the room, watching from their webs and not moving. (He doesn't ask about them). Sam seems to be the only one who has any idea what he's doing, and it turns out the only reason he left his family coven is because he had a trauma that snapped his family ties. He's working on rebuilding them, though. "You're the only normal person here," Tony tells him. "Yeah, I figured that out quickly," Sam deadpans, and then, "Can I keep a falcon?" Tony tips his head and tries not to squint at him. Natasha had told him it looked more judgemental than he meant it to. "It's your house too. Just make sure it meets all specifications, get the permits. Err on the side of too much." "How am I supposed to get permits," Sam asks. "Every time I try they tell me the queue is backed up with years' worth of requests." Tony can't help finally squinting at him with all the judgement he can muster. "You're not a coven of Endlings now, Sam. You joined with the Stark Coven. The name means something to people. And by something it means curses." Sam opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. "Did your parents curse people?" Natasha asks, turning from her book. It's the most intrigued she's ever looked. "Not that anyone can prove," Tony replies, and then doesn't say anything else about it, even when everyone pesters him. Sam tries to punish him by getting chickens, quails, and geese, but it backfires because Tony loves chickens.

"Hey, do you know anyone who wouldn't mind fucking me during the waning gibbous?" Tony asks at dinner, ignorant of the way everyone else either spews their beverage or coughs on food. "It's one of the steps for a spell I'm trying out." "ME," Steve bellows, slamming his hands down on the table as he stands up. Tony blinks at him, stunned. Then he blinks at Clint as he lunges across the table to tackle him with a snarl. Then at Bucky trying to leap at him, except Sam gets in his way. He turns and looks at Natasha and Bruce, who are still eating, casual, as if the rest of their coven are not engaging in fisticuffs. "Sex doesn't do anything for me," Bruce says with a shrug, not looking up from his food. Natasha glances at him, then looks up properly, frowning. "Wait, do I count?" "Are you against pegging?" Tony asks frankly. Natasha stares at him for a moment, then stands up, knife gripped tight in her hand. "Look what you've done," Bruce sighs when she lunges at Sam and Bucky and they promptly start screaming in terror. Tony isn't sorry, even if his mouth has dropped open in shock.

[loversfms]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed maeve finnegan walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who she is ? they kind of look like maia mitchell and i could be wrong but i think that they might be twenty-eight years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last twelve years. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at lomax auto-repairs as a mechanic. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the the broken bird of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty blunt at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty confident to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that two bedroom apartment beside me over in sunny shores. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!

STATS:

full name : maeve finnegan nickname(s) : mae ( but only if she really likes you ) birthplace : portstewart, northern ireland date of birth : 05 / 07 / 1996 parentage : john finnegan & aofie finnegan ( estranged ) sibling(s) : kai finnegan relationship status : single gender identity : cis woman ( she/her ) sexual orientation : bisexual faceclaim : maia mitchell

BACKGROUND: ( teen pregnancy, cheating )

aofie and john are just sixteen when they find out aofie is pregnant. it's already terrifying, and it becomes even more so when the topic of twins hits the table. still, they believe that love conquers all. they cared so deeply for each other, how could that love and care not only multiply with more additions to the family?

once the twins are born, it's clear as day that maeve is a carbon copy as aofie.

"YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR MOM !" it's a good thing, when you're a toddler picking up your mother's mannerisms. it's cute, even, the way you both put your hands on your hips as you watch the television from afar.

when she's six, she takes a liking to the piano. however, in true sister fashion, she decides to drop her focus on it as soon as she realizes her brother also seems to like making music. he's much better at it, anyway. he can do the writing and composing, she'd only been very good at reading and playing.

"YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR MOM !" it's a good thing, when you're learning to cook alongside your mom. the two of you spend the evenings prepping meals, and you're thrilled to help present them to your family.

maeve had always liked building things. playing with legos growing up, putting puzzles together... she liked having something to do with her hands. making something out of nothing. she liked keeping busy, and felt a great sense of pride any time she completed / built something all on her own.

"YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR MOM !" it's a good thing, until it's not. aofie had been stepping out-- this family life hadn't been as fulfilling as sixteen year old her thought it'd be. now, it's just john and the twins, and all these endearing traits had lost their charm.

she sees it, the way her brother and father struggle to make eye contact with her. how they can hardly stand to be in the same room as her. it unlocks a certain rage within her-- one she didn't know she was capable of.

still, even though she was angry, she felt she had to take over. they were missing a maternal figure, and at fourteen years old, maeve stepped up. making meals for the three of them, keeping up with the family agenda, doing the grocery shopping, writing everything down for everyone... she could take the good parts of aofie and make them work.

a year after her family life implodes, the remaining finnegans are off to palmview. there's promise of a new life -- a blank slate, of sorts. however, could the slate truly be blank if the ghost you were trying to avoid was haunting your face and mannerisms?

a once loud and lively girl has now become a hollow shell of herself. the good thing about the move was it had brought her and her brother closer than they had been previously. they had no one but each other. their class schedules had been different, but they always made time to give each other a nod in the hallway or sit together for lunch.

one thing she really liked about her new school was their wood and metal shop programs. she took every trade class she could. it was nice to keep busy and to see the results of her hard work. with a lack of friends, each one of her creations ended up in her brother's room once they had been graded. what could he possibly need a birdhouse for? who knows, but it's his problem now.

it had been easy to keep to herself. she would simply shoot down any attempt at social interaction. she hated working with others, too embarrassed to try and water her accent down for those around her to understand. it was just easier to be nobody.

well, it was, until the rumors began circulating about her brother. one-sided, nasty rumors about him and his friend. a relationship she'd witnessed with her own eyes, whether the other party was aware of it or not. between their social and familial fallout, it was beginning to feel like carrying the name FINNEGAN was a curse.

suddenly, the two who had been so good at hiding themselves away found themselves in the social spotlight. her brother, for the rumors circulating, and maeve, for cussing out & attempting to fight anyone who dare whisper his name in her presence. it doesn't take long for her to get hit with a suspension.

john finnegan is frustrated, says he doesn't recognize the kids in front of him. maeve can barely stand to hear him speak, angry at him, at aofie, at everyone. still, the three had come to an agreement that the twins would lay low for the rest of school. it had been their original plan anyway. and it's one she plans on sticking to... only after she slashes a set of tires in defense of her brother.

she graduates, plans to get the hell out of palmview, but plans fall through. she's stuck and has no backup plan. luckily for her, there's an auto repair shop with a very kind employee, willing to teach her more than the basics of fixing a car. she'd learned the basics years ago, and she begins working as his apprentice. it doesn't take her long to go from apprentice to full-time employee. it fulfills her need to fix, but not completely

she makes furniture on the side, selling it at farmer's markets, craft fairs, different markets in general... there's just nothing better than the feeling of watching your work walk away with a happy customer

PERSONALITY:

she still struggles to make friends to this day, but she's got a few of them. she's fiercely loyal to those she cares about, and is always offering to slash a set of tires... ( it was just such a rush! )

doesn't know how to think before she speaks, and even if she did, everything is always written clear as day on her face

swears like a sailor sorry it's not her shes just irish :/

very caring and very much a mom friend but don't say that in front of her i fear she may kill you...... her way of showing love is acts of service okay!!!!!!!

[ecc-poetry]

TERF WARS

I wrote JK Rowling a letter when I was a little girl, asking to play Hermione in the Harry Potter movie. The nerdy witch. Justice-monger. Shame and self-doubt had started to snake their way through me, but weren't yet my veins. It was safe then to beg boons of St. Joanne. Mother Christmas. "Miracle" wasn't a slur–hadn't she taught us to be plucked from obscurity? Hadn't she made magic real?

Unplucked, I hit high school, where despite owls and broomsticks, the reality was that I wasn't the right kind of girl: Awkward. Too smart. Too angry. My body clung to me like a slur, meanwhile Joanne SPEWed her punchlines: A witch who believes in sharing power?! I had no power. I only felt safe while shrinking. I shed baby fat like the skin of a snake,

and couldn't think who taught me the trick. My mind writhed like a snake. Hermione got a makeover to ready her for love, her worth made real. Joanne said: at my age, she could've been conned to seek a safety only gettable in the body of a boy. Not me. I was indelible. I'd die of girl before I stopped being one, like the girls who were told which they were and rebelled. Like the boys Joanne slurs

as lost girls. Joanne's three-quarter prose drowned Hermione in a slurry of girlboss: memory-muddler. Perfect prime minister. A snake licked my ears since 11, and now in the base of my brainstem, a witch peddles poisons. Joanne says the things in your head aren't real just because you know them. She says struggling. That girls are at risk of erasure, because it's un-safe–

and worse, unpopular–to be one. St. Joanne wants a safe world for women, so she causes with people who think I'm a slur. She says, "The system, surgery, easy fix, poor girls who do not conform." She parcels her tongue, snakelike, each poison pill small and swallowable. She knows 'real' lies between my legs. She thinks she is only burning witches;

but her cruelties sear me too. Don't you get it? Hurt one witch and her sisters scream. Joanne says protect, but I've never felt safe in her sanctum. I keep smelling flames. I run to my real coven, my story-slurred sisters. Joanne says that bigot's a slur, but to her it's a badge. It admits her to the parliament of snakes. All in the name of protecting 'real' girls–

Well, spare me your cherishing. My witch-womb rejects you. I pronounce your sanctimony slurred,

your safe, a stake to the heart. You think we're the same, but Joanne: I don't caucus with snakes. You made magic

once, but what you call love isn't real. It's a nuclear bomb, shedding ash through the years onto all us wicked girls.

-Elisa Chavez

(Notes and recs)

[hellonexrth]

003. the family name kaya lockwood: one-shot tw: death

The Lockwood name came with a lot of weight and a heavier burden than any of them would have liked to admit. Her father had always struggled to keep his anger in check, since he was a kid and even after accidentally triggering his wolf curse. Unfortunately, that same anger was not only passed down to his children, Kaya and Asher, but inflicted upon them. Being a girl saved Kaya from the brunt of his outbursts, but it didn't save her from from feeling that same deep-seeded rage in her bones.

That Lockwood rage had been much harder to control as of late. May it was because she'd triggered her own curse, had been dipping her toes into the world of demonic power. Or maybe, she was just getting sick of people bossing her around, sick of her father telling Asher he wasn't good enough, sick of the people around her getting hurt because of Inadu's curses.

So, despite her parents' wishes, she followed her mother onto the battlefield. There was no world in which she let her go out there without backup, no world where she sat idly by and let her fight a battle so dangerous.

Kaya was determined to show people that she could hold her own in a fight, determined to earn her spot at the table, determined to be seen instead of pushed aside, instead of told to sit down. And for the most part, she held her own, she kept the witches back as the older people on their side of the fight got closer and closer to Inadu.

But something slipped eventually, and she couldn't hold everyone back. Something distracted her. And the worst part was that she couldn't even remember what had caused her to look away in that moment. But she had, and in that split second of distraction, a dark witch's power surrounded her and squeezed.

The lights went out even as she fought back, and she saw everyone she loved flicker by in quick succession. Asher, Ingrid, Theo, Hope, her parents. Moments with them played in slow motion, the greatest hits, everything that would never come to fruition. Until everything came to a stop and she was ripped from her vision and thrown back onto the battlefield free of pain, but facing her mom and by the look on her face alone, she knew what she'd done. Kaya summoned all of her power in that moment, tried to take the death back from her mom's grasp but it wouldn't come. She held too tight, had gone too far. All Kaya could do was run away with her body, collapsing when they were safe, holding her hand as she faded.

She called her father to the scene and he arrived fast and angry. All of it directed at Kaya, the only person to take it out on in his vicinity. "If you had just listened to me. If you had just stayed home."

Grief had already overwhelmed her completely, had shattered a piece of her she felt would never fit back together. Her mom was her everything, more important to her than anyone else. She'd held her in the highest regard, always there for her when she needed someone, always a rock for her mom in the darkest times. But this time, this last moment, Kaya had failed her. She couldn't play the part her mom needed her to play, and she'd died for it.

She couldn't bear his questions, his insinuations, his Lockwood anger. Everything inside her snapped, broke slowly at first, and then all at once as if it was going to consume her completely. The power curdled in her chest and begged for an escape. One Kaya was all too willing to give. It should have been me was all that she could think, repeating over and over in her head like a broken record as she opened the floodgates on her father's anger and gave her power free reign.

And free reign it took. Lightning red hot like fire shot from her hands as she stood up to face him. And she hadn't meant to kill him, she really hadn't. What kind of daughter would she be if she had? But he fell so much faster than she thought possible and everything—everything that had been going so fast until that point—came to a complete stop. And she was just a girl standing in the garden with the bodies of her parents at her feet and a guilt in her heart so heavy it hardened.

[kurisus]

Noragami reread: Volume 13 & 14 thoughts

With this, I am halfway through the reread.

Thinking about how the entire thing with Yato's father exploded because of one thing he said while in Yomi. Kunimi overheard him saying something about his father, mentioned it to Bishamon and Kazuma, who then try to figure out his location as a way of getting revenge for Ebisu. Kazuma tries to get it out of Yato, but of course he won't talk, so we see this escalate the following volume when he goes after Yukine.

If Yato hadn't mentioned a father in Yomi, Kunimi wouldn't have had any details to give Bishamon and Kazuma, and they probably would have found the storm at the Iki hospital suspicious but not particularly evidence of anything. Tsuguha would still have been struck, but Kazuma wouldn't necessarily know this was all tied to Yato and go after Yukine. I just. Man. The throughline of this one is really solid.

I'm also thinking very hard about Hiyori's worries about her far shore friends giving her a hard time as far as her career is concerned. She can't focus on whether or not she wants to be a doctor because she keeps thinking about these souls, frozen in time, able to learn new skills but never age.

Along with this, trash dad laughs in her face when she talks about not forgetting Yato, because he knew she already has. She's always at risk of becoming too distant from the far shore and forgetting everything, and...again, the story has been about her trying to avoid this. Will she end with her ties cut? I don't know...

I always forget Hiyori had no clue who trash dad was until the upperclassman she's been avoiding for a few months goes "by the way can you stop interfering with my son?" When Yato showed Yukine, she was eavesdropping and couldn't see the screen.

So yeah just imagine this guy you barely know kisses you while you're the most distressed you've ever been, so you run away from him every time you see him for the next few months until finally he reveals he's the dad of one of your best friends. A relatable situation, I'm sure.

Anyway, it makes me sad to know Hiyori picked up on Yato's melancholy during the cherry blossom party and connected it to Sakura when she learned about her. It also makes me sad to know trash dad assumes Yato told her everything, but she just saw his memories--he still doesn't know that she knows. Sakura in general makes me sad. Father manipulated the entire thing of her learning her name, thus forcing Yato to kill her, then scolding him for it. Absolute maniac.

I didn't catch this before, but did Sakura's father have something to do with her death? It's hard to tell because the man's face isn't visible, but the guy carrying her away from her mother wearing the same hat as her dad. Then again, that was the style of hat back then, so it's anyone's guess.

Here are the panels though, for reference.

Yato is thinking of Sakura when he warns Hiyori about his dad, and says "I wouldn't expect you to know this, but my dad is ruthless." But she does know. Banging my fists against the ground.

Hiyori's mom seeming to address her half-ayakashi form, and not her unconscious body, haunts me. She definitely has a sense of her, although I don't think she could quite see her.

The way trash dad fights is super revealing. He summons a masked ayakashi, but before Yato can kill it, he jumps in the way, catching him off guard and forcing him to block with Sekki, thus getting him hit by Chiki.

I am almost positive the "You...stupid!" speech bubble when Yukine gets struck is a little peek of his past, since it doesn't seem like he's talking and none of the others present would say that.

Kazuma and Yukine being relieved they don't have to fight each other hahaha I'm fine (I am not fine)

The entirety of chapter 52 is a doozy, but I'm really honing in on the end--Yato and Ebisu's conversation, and his phone call with Hiyori. So, like:

Yato tells Ebisu his dream, to be together with Hiyori and Yukine. Ebisu chides him with saying gods don't need to have dreams because they exist for the people. He then says Yato shouldn't apologize because since he doesn't feel mad, the old Ebisu wouldn't either. Thus Yato's guilt over letting him die is somewhat assuaged.

But then Ebisu goes on to say people feel just a little safer by knowing gods are there--and repeating that it's not good to have too much interaction between the shores. Death should be feared, he says, or else it would be too easy to cross over. He says this while Yato is thinking of Hiyori begging him to make her his shinki. There's a lot in this volume and the last that directly contradicts the feeling that Hiyori is better off as Yato's shinki, which is part of why I felt so outraged when it seemed like that might be the ending.

Anyway, next Hiyori calls Yato to tell him the hospital is looking up--her brother has returned, her father's friends are recruiting staff, and she herself is going to help out as soon as she can. For the first time since this incident, she's excited for her future. And this is a future that doesn't involve Yato. Remembering Ebisu's advice, he smiles peacefully. This is how things should be, he says. And to drive this point home, he is shown next to the distressed ghost of his kid self, who wanted nothing more than to be seen, worshiped, revered even.

I have a headache and tears in my eyes again. Good lord this chapter is basically the thesis statement of Noragami.

I feel the chapter of Yato saving Masaomi's artist friend, a ghost who loved art but got herself trapped in a painting and was forced to overwork herself, losing all passion, is a pretty on-the-nose allegory for the mangaka lifestyle. It's also interesting to me that less than two years after this, Noragami itself went on hiatus because Adachitoka got injured somehow.

Thinking about how fucked up it is that Kazuma was making small talk with Yato, all while being fully aware he was about to betray his trust by interrogating Yukine. And how, at the end of it, you realize he wouldn't need to teach Yukine spells anymore because he finally overpowered him. But that doesn't stop you from being sad their relationship fell apart.

Kazuma mocks Yukine for giving him too much information, but fails to realize he also gave Yukine the power to defeat him. Because they trusted each other and neither wanted to do this. I'm so sad.

The Discord reactions:

[hyenaswine]

my mom called me at 10:45 to say she'd slipped on the ice getting into her car & fell on her butt & lost her glasses but she didn't want to get back out & look for them, so she was just gonna drive to my house because we already had plans to go shopping. but then when she got to my house & i got in the car the conversation went like this:

mom: ......i just fell so i'm kinda confused. where are we going?

me: [store name]

mom: what's [store name]?

me: one of your favorite antique stores. we were going to buy a present for your sister because her birthday is tomorrow.

mom: ...what day is it?

me: january 20th

mom: it's january already???

this is very much Not like my mother, who is a very sharp & lucid person, so i said hey actually, you know what would be fun? let's skip the antique store & go to the emergency room, cuz you definitely have a concussion.

since my aunt lives right next door to me i went & got her too so i wouldn't have to deal with the crisis alone, then i drove the 3 of us to the ER. at one point in the car my mom got a call from an old family friend, one of the nurses who used to care for my grandfather, & i told her to just ignore it. "but something could be wrong with zeyde," she said, & that REALLY freaked me out cuz my zeyde's been dead since 2011. i didn't say "don't you remember he's dead????" but i just told her he was fine & nothing had changed with him.

anyway, she was already making more sense by the time we got to the ER & she got assessed by a doctor. he said she should have a CT scan just in case, so we ended up waiting about 4 hours for that which was excruciating, especially cuz we'd been planning to go to lunch so i hadn't eaten. but the CT was clear & showed no bleeding. so she's fine, just bruised & absolutely concussed, but her memory has returned. i swear she asked me if it was january about 50 times, along with "where's my purse?" (in the back seat) & "why am i sitting here?" (you're in the passenger seat because i am driving you to the ER because you hit your head).

when i drove her home at the end she made me search through the snow for her glasses & mailbox key which she'd apparently tossed when she fell, but we found those right away, so really everything worked out as best it could. now she doesn't remember her amnesia spell at all & keeps asking me to tell her about it.

but yknow. at least the 3 of us got to have a fun girls' day & get out of the house. at first my uncle was gonna come too but my concussed mother shouted "oh i don't want HIM to come 😡" which was such a delight to me personally.

[feastonkings]

jeremy allen white / he/him ——— no way is that JAX CROMWELL.. they’re a 33-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being HOT-TEMPERED & STUBBORN but there are some people who have seen them being HOSPITABLE & ADEPT. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of a spork tattoo, intense drumming beneath your skin, a name embroidered on a pristine chef’s coat, just another drink to get through dinner service, and muffled screaming coming from the cooler, but that could just be because they’re considered the SUPREME CHEF around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

GENERAL.

full name: jaxon sean cromwell nicknames: jax classification: human gender / pronouns: cis man, he/him age / birthday: 33, february 17th orientations: bisexual, biromantic occupation: head chef & co-owner of bobby's bayou & bbq location: middle district status: single, open family: wendy cromwell (sister), hal cromwell (brother) strengths: hospitable, adept, caring, resilient, meticulous weaknesses: hot-tempered, stubborn, vengeful, cynical, antisocial character inspo: tbd

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: death, alcoholism, terminal illness

as far back as jax can remember, food had always played an important part in his life. every major life event, memory, and milestone in jax's head had a meal or a food attached to it.

jax was the first born and he lived the first seven years of his life as an only child. they were having lasagna the night his parents told him he was going to be a big brother. the night wendy was born, all he can remember is popcorn because his dad had brought him out to see a movie and it was near the end he'd been rushed out to meet his mother at the hospital. waiting in the lobby, he was still picking kernel shreds from his teeth.

the first meal his parents let him cook for everyone was breakfast. jax had been in the third grade, he made banana's foster french toast and two egg omelets for everyone. after that they didn't question when he asked to cook for everyone.

cooking made jax feel good, his best friend bobby seemed to get that and his parents encouraged him. he wasn't always the best at understanding his siblings' hobbies, but eventually he learned to be supportive of them the same way his parents had been of him.

in his teen years he caused trouble, much like a normal teen. never anything too serious, just some general mischief and partying. some of that picked up when it was revealed that his father had a very aggressive form of cancer. they'd been having salmon and asparagus that night, later jax would drink two bottles of red wine from the wine cellar.

this was when cooking became a coping mechanism. he started to learn all the different recipes he hadn't yet from his parents, friends parents, grandparents, and anywhere else he could.

jax tried to show his love for his father by making him whatever he wanted to eat and getting him anything he needed, but it was awful to see him like that.

wendy had her boyfriend who she went to for support though jax tried to be a rock for both her and hal whenever they needed it. he wasn't the best with emotional support, but he was good to listen and give a hug.

tragedy struck twice in the same year for jax. his father lost his battle to cancer and then his best friend was killed in a mysterious accident everyone was calling a mafia hit gone wrong. jax was devastated and he really didn't know how to deal with both blows at once. even cooking wasn't quite enough, this is when drinking accompanied it as a crutch for him.

he wasted no time getting out of town for awhile, going to culinary school and going to train in some of the best restaurants in the world.

when he came back home, it was with the intention to open his own fine dining restaurant in honor of his best friend who always wanted to open it with him. unfortunately he wasn't able to do it on his own so he ended up needing to open it with someone else who ended up getting a loan from the mafia they are still paying back.

he throws himself into his work, spending many hours creating new dishes and perfecting everything or simply scrubbing his kitchen to keep his mind off things. unfortunately alcohol is still a crutch the same way cooking is, he has yet to truly deal with the loss of two of the most important people in his life.

when he does take a break he makes time for family and a close friend or two he's kept over the years.

HEADCANONS.

he has always had a quick temper that has occasionally gotten violent when alcohol is clouding his judgement. usually it fizzles out just as quick as it sparks.

more to come...

[deebris]

A night not to forget (in a bad sense) - 1

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x leitor;

Synopsis: Rooster comes home to find his wife and son arguing. Things go too far and he needs to step in;

Warnings: violence, name-calling, family problems, panic attack, drugs;

Genre: anguish;

Part 1 - Part 2

This is my first attempt at imagine here on Tumblr, I hope I can keep writing. And english is not my native language, so I hope you guys understand if there is any mistake. (I accept criticism and tips).

Bradley expected to come home to the two of you like any other quiet day. Normally you would be finishing up dinner, or perhaps reading a book while ordering at a restaurant. His son Elijah, who had just turned 16 a few months ago, would be playing a video game in the living room that he begged his dad to buy for his birthday. But, oh! How wrong he was…

You were in a heated argument. At first, he couldn't understand the subject of the fight because their voices were muffled, but as he closed the front door and moved his feet further into the house, the voices in the kitchen grew louder.

In that short amount of time, he had already imagined countless reasons for the screaming. Elijah wouldn't have done the dishes you asked for, tidied up his room, or maybe even, that he could have gone out now for the night without your permission, considering he's done it before, and you were always irritated with worry. As he grew up, more rebellious he became. He wanted to be treated like an adult. But something was extremely wrong, as the discussion seemed too serious for problems as "banal" as these.

Once he placed his backpack on the sofa, he walked to the kitchen entrance and arrived just in time to see Elijah take one of the knives from the holder where it was kept, and point it in your direction. Bradley froze for a few seconds, you two still hadn't noticed his presence. The shock was instantaneous, and as quickly as it came, it was gone. Bradley felt dread, then anger. He felt confused for not understanding the situation. He was nervous. Seeing the boy threaten you with that thing in his hand pissed him off.

He looked into his son's eyes. Elijah seemed to be angry, but it was different, there was a built-in hatred. And when Bradley realized who that hate was directed at, a bitter taste rose in his mouth. It was you. He didn't have time to analyze your state at that moment, he needed to act fast. Bradley ran to his son grabbing his wrists and shoving him until he hit the kitchen island behind them. The boy's lower back suffered an intense impact, hitting the surface of the thing, making him grunt in pain and surprise.

The boy dropped the knife to the floor the minute he was pushed. He was startled as soon as he saw his father's fierce gaze.

"What the hell do you think you're doing pointing that out to your mother?"

"Bradley, calm down"

He looked in her direction in disbelief. Calm? Did you want him to be calm? He just couldn't stomach it.

"He shows you a knife and you wants me to calm down?" he faced Elijah "What the hell were you going to do later, eh? Stick it in her? Were you going to take that fucking knife and go after your own mother, brat?"

"Please, I know he's wrong, but let the boy go and let's settle this."

"Are we going to settle this?! Do you want to know how am I going to solve this? I'm going to cover his face with punchs." now it was Bradley who was losing his mind.

“You will tell me now, loud and clear, why you did this, Elijah.” he asked in a deep, menacing voice.

The boy dropped a few tears in front of his father as he stared back at him. He couldn't stand it for long and ducked his head to look away from his father. Bradley made sure to grab his chin and force him to look up; in him eyes.

“Don't take your eyes off me again." he warned while squeezing the boy's chin tightly "have you decided to become a softie now that I got home, you coward? You looked pretty brave before."

In the background it was possible to hear your strong cry and the sobs coming from your throat. You were in a panic. Although you were grateful that Bradley had come home and prevented your son from committing a greater tragedy, you knew that he could be the reason for another gravity by the way he was acting. He looked like it was about to kill your someone.

“And don't you dare defend him. For years I watched you pat his head, no matter the situation. Raising this spoiled little boy, who now repays you by doing this." he hurt you with those words, leaving your heart tighter and making you think that maybe it was your fault "I won't let you do that again now." he finished.

Elijah was never a bad boy. He is kind and tries hard like any good son, no matter what he does. But all that effort got the better of him, left him exhausted. You were a mother who spoiled a lot, that was true, but only because you thought he deserved it. It wasn't fair to see him killing himself studying at school, to see him succumbing to exhaustion every day to get a scholarship to the college he wanted so much. You didn't demand much from him at home, which left him a little unused to doing housework, but he made up for it in his studies. He is a very smart boy for his age.

You thought everything was fine, but six months ago you found out he was doing drugs. You knew why he had done it, it was so obvious. Sleepless nights, time divided between projects, school and science groups. Although you always told him that he didn't have to live like this, that he could rest, he wouldn't listen to you. He had always been a little greedy, wanting to be the best at everything, to make his father the proudest man in the world. Until he concluded by himself that the only thing that would make his father proud was to pursue a career in the military, something he never wanted. So he got frustrated with that. When he couldn't stand any longer, he resorted to those poisons. Drugs. Bradley din't know nothing about that.

"I'm sorry" Elias started crying hard, it was agonizing "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."

Bradley loosened her grip on his hands a little, enough for him to be able to move them again. Elijah brought them to his hair, squeezing the strands to the side and closing his eyes hard to cry. The boy let out a terrifying scream and began to scream in grief and self-loathing.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to do this, I swear. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

The boy kept repeating the last words. He was looking at you desperately, thinking his mother and father hated him now.

You wanted so badly to go to him. Hug him and tell him you forgave him, that you still loved him dearly and always would. But you hesitated thinking that maybe Bradley would stop your actions. What he had said kept repeating itself in your mind: you always put your hand on his head, I won't let you do that now.

Deep down, you knew he wasn't wrong. He was trying to discipline his son, you also wanted Elijah to know that his actions have consequences, but that was too much. Bradley didn't know about him drug problem, because again, you protected Elijah. Yes, Bradley was absolutely right, you spoiled him too much. You hid from him that what your son was going through, you didn't have that right.

“Elijah, tell your father. He will understand, dear"

"Tell me what?"

Elijah squeezed his eyes shut trying to stop the crying and nervousness.

"I-I…" he swallowed the saliva in his mouth and rubbed his hand over his eyes to wipe away the tears. His breathing began to become irregular, worrying his mother and father.

"Elijah, my love, breathe" you hugged him and started stroking his hair, you didn't even remember the knife anymore, the only thing you wanted was to see your precious son well "calm down, my son."

"What is happening with him?" Bradley asked deeply scared, but you didn't make an effort to answer him, because you were concentrating on the boy feeling sick in front of you. But your attempts at comfort weren't working, it seemed like Elijah wasn't listening to you.

"Elijah, son. Please breathe, I won't do anything with you. Breathe!" Bradley said in an attempt to make him calm down, he turned pale with fear at his son's plight.

“Bradley!" he immediately widened his eyes with your anguished scream "call emergency, now!"

E não demorou, em um instante já estava pegando o celular e discando o número enquanto o filho sufocava.

[idiopathicsmile]

what's the first song you remember hearing? what's a song you're enjoying recently? what's a song you strongly associate with a past chapter in life?

unfortunately, my memory gets VERY spotty the farther back i go. i do know that in preschool, we sang a little prayer to the tune of Frere Jacques before snack time, which went "god we thank you, god we thank you, for our food! for our food! we are glad to be here, we are glad to be here, thank you god, thank you god."

but i remember this mostly because, uh. my mom's parents were very catholic. and my mom raised us unitarian universalist. and being (like myself) a somewhat conflict-avoiding person, she never quite got around to explaining to her mother and father that unitarians are not necessarily christian, and that none of us, in fact, believed in god.

i grew up close with my parents, and as such, when i was a young child, the notion of keeping a big part of yourself hidden from the adults in your life was unthinkable (i hadn't even begun to work through my various queer identities, lol) so it STRESSED ME OUT TREMENDOUSLY that my maternal grandparents assumed we were protestant (not ideal! but still something they could wrap their heads around!) and not the filthy filthy unbelievers we were. like, had they known the truth, it would've been A Whole Problem. as it got a little older, the source of the stress became, "i am not very good at lies. what if i fuck this up for all of us???"

so one day when i was about twelve, it happened. my maternal grandfather looked me straight in the eyes and asked me to lead the suppertime prayer. shit. i had heard him deliver his standard catholic "in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit" routine more times than i could count, but what if i got it wrong? what if my memory failed me and i made some sort of crucial flub in the recitation of the prayer, and my grandparents somehow leapt from that to the (admittedly far-fetched but, y'know, technically correct) conclusion that my family's whole so-called relationship with god was a farce???

so instead i went the safe route. i delivered the one, the only prayer i was certain i could execute with no embarrassing slip-ups. at the age of twelve, fully in junior high, i took a deep breath and i sang my entire preschool prayer song, to the tune of Frere Jacques.

thankfully, my grandfather was also a sexist of the dismissive/patronizing type, so he just thought it was cute.

WHEW. second question!

i've been on a huge The Beths kick lately, no song moreso than River Run: Lvl 1. it hits my brain in exactly the right spots.

for a past chapter in my life, i'm gonna go with the angsty, anachronistically Reagan-hating middle schooler i was and say Jackson Browne's Lives in the Balance. (i still hate reagan, but you get me.)

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

I'm sick of Emma's fans coming up with the picture of her bruised knees to say Evan did that to her. Really?! Evan, a man twice Emma's size and strength, hit her (according to them), but on the day of the arrest she shows no signs of assault, yet Evan, who, I repeat, twice Emma's size and strength, could not defend himself or stop her from biting him and giving him a bloody nose. I like Emma am a thin boned person, my legs are very thin and I can tell you that throughout my life I have had small bruises from accidental bumps, you know bumping into furniture, or even bruises that I don't even know how they appeared. But I've also gotten very, very big bruises, obviously from much, much harder accidental bumps or very hard falls that I've had. For example a few months ago I was helping my brother to carry a sack of sugar, very heavy, suddenly I started to get a cramp in one of my feet, which made me lose concentration, I was about to let go of the part of the sack that I was holding but still I could not prevent the weight of the sack to overcome me, and for not letting go I fell very hard on my knees, which caused me big bruises on both knees. But, on the other hand, another huge bruise that I have had throughout my life, was due to an aggression. Around 2014-2015, my father kicked me in the leg, one kick was enough to leave a big bruise on the back of my right leg, the size of the bruise was bigger than the palm of my hand, you may be wondering if I reported it, no I did not. Anyway my point here is: If, Evan who doubles Emma in size and strength did those bruises to Emma (according to her fans) either with punches or kicks for example, I assure you those bruises would be big, much, much bigger, more and very colorful (huge on a small person like Emma) and perfectly visible that it would be impossible to deny that someone or Evan (according to them) caused them. And bruises don't take long to appear whether they are small or big, accidental or from aggression. I took a picture of the bruise on my leg back then but deleted it weeks later because I saw no point in keeping it. At times like this I wish I hadn't deleted it, but I googled for a picture that might resemble what my bruise looked like.

https://www.google.com/search?q=moretones+muy+grandes+y+morados&tbm=isch#imgrc=Jix6atpdeMr_0M

That picture perfectly represents what my leg looked like, the only difference is that in the picture, the bruise is on the crotch, mine was on the back of the leg. ER fans keep speculating about Evan being weird or violent based on the characters he plays. No dear ones, someone violent and willing to hurt you is not going to pinch your knees, someone violent is going to leave big bruises, someone like that is going to bite you and make you bleed from the nose.

I'm sorry if this text took forever, but I had to say it.

thank you! honestly, this is exactly the problem.. this information is far too logical for their small little brains. it doesn't suit their narrative, so they discard it. if you pressed them with it, what would they do? they would simply start name calling, calling evan ugly, calling emma mother... just ignorant.

also, i am sorry you got kicked.. jesus!