#but he was telling me. about a task that i have to do. so i really really did need to listen

[entitled-fangirl]

I feel like Cregan and his wife do a TON of simple intimacies. Wolfmans love language is all of them. He is stupidly whipped for his lovely and EVERYONE knows. Wife taking a bath? Cregan is in the bath with her just because he loves the intimacy of it (even if it doesn’t turn into spicy time which it definitely has) Wife getting undressed for the day? Cregan is on his knees undoing her boots and will help with her dress strings just because he loves to touch her. Mention something she likes at the market? It’s wrapped in a pretty bow that night on her dresser. Cregan feels his lovely getting insecure? Not on his watch! That man worships the ground his wife walks on and you cannot say otherwise.

PREACH!!! 🗣️

.......................................................

Cregan finished the last letter, happy to throw his quill on the desk and be done with his work. His eyes trailed over to his wife.

He had talked her into bathing in his solar so the two could spend time together, even if completing different tasks. It was not the first time they had done so, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 

He stood up and stretched, carefully following along with the story she was telling, her head leaned back against the copper rim of the tub and her eyes closed.

He shrugged off his clothing, piece by piece, throwing it all over his desk with no care. 

"-And then?" He hummed when she went quiet.

Her head tilted, but her eyes stayed closed. "Mmm, there was something else. Can't remember."

"Strange to forget the middle of a nightmare, hm?" He asked as he pulled the last of his clothing off.

"Well, only the end of it was bad," she said with a hushed tone. Cregan's hand came to her shoulder, and she naturally sat up, leaning forward on instinct. He'd wash her on occasion, and she assumed he'd do so again. 

"Move forward," he muttered lightly as she continued to speak about her nightmare. She did so without much thought. 

"And it was Winterfell, but it didn't look like it. It had the same stones and the snow but-" she paused, her eyes finally opening and her head turning to the side. "-What are you doing?"

His leg had entered the tub, the other one following. He said nothing as he lowered his body into the tub behind his wife.

She turned her body just enough to see him. "Cregan! There's not enough room!" She giggled.

As he settled into the tub, he pulled her up onto his lap. He held her close and let his hands run up and down her sides. "Seems to be enough room," his low voice murmured into her ear.

She got comfortable against him. A content sigh escaping her.

"Now," he said with a kiss to her head, "continue telling me about this nightmare of yours."

…

The moment she began to tug at the laces of her dress, Cregan watched. His eyes stayed on her, looking for a way to assist her. 

He made a quick decision, the mighty northern lord dropping to his knees in front of her and unlacing his wife's boots.

She held her skirt up for him. "Cregan, you don't have t-"

"-Quiet," he softly reprimanded. He made no motion to stop. His hand occasionally came up to brush his hair back when it fell into his face.

With the boots unlaced, he ran a hand up her left leg, forcing her to bend at the knee and lift her leg up. He gently pulled the boot off, leaving a kiss on her shin once he had done so, then repeated it all with the other leg.

Her skirt fell back into place, but Cregan stayed. His head tipped back to admire the woman in front of him. His hands now came to her hips and he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her stomach.

…

She entered their chamber, feeling exhausted from their day travels. They had spent hours outside of Winterfell at the market, connecting with the people of the north.

Now it was all setting in, the exhaustion, the weariness. She groaned lightly as she shut the door, going to the bed without undressing.

On the furs laid a small package, wrapped carefully with a parchment. It was unmarked but clearly placed with intention. She hesitated but decided to discover the contents of such a mysterious thing.

Taking extra caution to no tear the paper, she unwrapped it with anticipation. The last fold of paper was lifted.

The beads from the market.

The two Starks moved down the pathway of the busy market road. Across from them was an older woman, the vendor of a small collection. On her table laid various ribbons and beads, all created by her.

Most walked by without much thought. The beads were carved by shaky hands and the art showed it.

But it caught the attention of the Lady of Winterfell. As if pulled to it, she crossed the busy walkway, going to the table. 

She had fallen in love with a few of the beads, admiring them fully and telling the woman how wonderful she thought them. 

Cregan soon stepped behind her. "You like them?" He whispered to her.

She looked at him, a hopeful look in her eye. "They're beautiful."

Cregan didn't know much about the commodities of women, but he followed along with what he could. "Aye," he agreed along with her. "You can have them."

A smile pulled at her lips, but the look in her eyes died down quickly. "I have enough," she remarked. 

He had high doubts that that was the reason for her sudden decision. He sighed, "But you seem to like them."

"I do-"

Cregan pulled a few coins out and forced them into her hand. "Then get them," he smiled at her, hoping to encourage her.

She looked down at the coins and stepped around the table to speak closely to the woman. 

Cregan gave them privacy, standing as a guard dog amidst the crowd.

She soon returned with a small smile, not nearly the one he was hoping she'd have.

"Well?" He asked, ready to see her decision on which beads she had chosen.

"I have enough," she repeated, giving one last small smile and moving to the next table.

It wasn't hard for Cregan to piece together that she had given the older woman the money with nothing in return, and it made his heart swell.

Her fingers brushed over the beads, overjoyed that he had managed to get the ones she had loved so dearly.

And though he had done something so kind, he never mentioned it. Only once did he even acknowledge it and it was the first time she had worn them in her hair. He remarked a soft, "how pretty," and twirled the strand in his fingers, before moving on like nothing happened.

That's just the kind of man Cregan was.

................................................

[loudclan-clangen]

Cut for Time - Moon 31

Hey guys! New things! Sometimes when we have long moons, there are scenes that I want to show you guys but I just don't have room to do so. With the suggestion of @snailstep-and-her-clan and the help of the loudclan discord I was able to bring some of these scenes to life in written and illustrated form! Enjoy, and go follow the talented artists if you don't already!

art by @mammoth-clangen

“I’m sorry.” Peakpatch tries to look down at his paws shamefully, but Jaggedtail places a paw under his chin, gently urging Peakpatch to look him in the eye.

“Don’t be sorry.”

“But it’s stupid-” tears prick at Peakpatch’s eyes.

“It’s not stupid. Don’t be sorry.” Jaggedtail’s voice is solid and comforting, Peakpatch fights the urge to melt into it. It feels wrong to seek comfort in his friend after rejecting him. It feels selfish.

“It is stupid. I like you, you like me, we should be mates! I just… I'm not ready…” Peakpatch’s tears begin to drip, and he doesn't have the will to fight it when Jaggedtail pulls him into his chest. 

“I understand, Peakpatch. You don’t have to explain it. It’s okay. I’m here as your friend for as long as you need me to be. And when you’re ready to become mates- if you’re ever ready, I’ll be here then too. I’m not going anywhere. I already promised you that.” Peakpatch let out a shaky breath. He couldn't imagine a life without Jaggedtail. If keeping him at paw's length is what Peakpatch needed to do to keep him alive, then he would be happy to. He could find a way to be happy to.

art by @lurking-in-windclan-camp

Hushed voices echo out of the healer's den, but with the majority of the clan at a gathering there's no one to notice two mischievous apprentices hidden in the shadows of the cave.

“Ah! Shoot!” Dancepaw recoils from one of the piles of herbs, cradling an injured paw, “This one stings!”

Erminepaw peeks over at Dancepaw’s pile. “Hm, that must be nettle, then,” He pauses for a moment, before reaching over and gingerly sweeping it into another pile “Songpaw said that fireweed cures stings, so we’ll put those together. Oo, and the stinkweed too, since they’re both ‘weeds’!”

"What about the berries? They all look the same, so how are we supposed to tell the difference? Taste?" Dancepaw hooks a berry with his claw, raising it to his mouth before a sharp smack from Ermine sends it flying into the dark recesses of the cave.

"No! You never eat a berry that you don't know the name of! Don't you pay attention at all when Songpaw talks?" Ermine's scolding earns him an offended glare.

"Well if you know so much then you do it!" Dancepaw sulks around to the other side of the ledge, shouldering Erminepaw over to the berries.

Erminepaw bristles at the shove, but after a deep breath he begins to hesitantly sort berries, too proud to admit that the task is a bit above his level as well. Besides, Erminepaw assures himself, he's watched his mother do this a thousand times, how hard could it be?

“Songpaw better be grateful that we’re helping him out like this.” Dancepaw grumbles.

“I’m sure he will be when he finds out!” Erminepaw pointedly chirps back, trying to push the creeping feeling of unease back down his spine. If he makes a mistake the healers will fix it. What's the worst that could happen?

Art by @featherfrond

“Hey! Wait up!” Rosehiptree trots up to Kingfur as he slips past the jagged rocks that mark the camp entrance, their pelts brushing as she squeezes through the narrow gap alongside him.

“Everything alright?” Kingfur questions, on edge at the unusual attention. Rosehiptree was his sister Sockeyepelt's friend, it wasn't often that she paid him any mind. Perhaps his prank had inspired the pair of them, the thought sent a shiver down Kingfur's spine. His sister didn't exactly know where the line was when it came to practical jokes. He swore that he still had thorns lodged under his skin from the time she decided he needed to go swimming in a pit of devil's club. It was in his best interest to deflect for now. “Sockeyepelt is sunning back in the camp if you were looking for her.”

“I know that. I’m not looking for her.” Great, Kingfur thought to himself, watching Rosehiptree glance around at their surroundings. Had Sockeyepelt slipped out of camp ahead of them when he wasn't paying attention?

Satisfied with her sweep of the area, Rosehiptree turned her attention back to Kingfur, a wide grin slowly taking hold as ice blue eyes sparkled with delight, “I’m looking for the genius who got Juneaucliff to walk around camp puffed up like a ptarmagin with all that junk smeared on his stupid face!”

Kingfur felt pride well in his chest, but quelled it, not about to let himself fall for such blatant flattery. "You didn't seem to find it all that genius from where I was standing. I didn't think you even payed enough attention to notice."

Rosehiptree rolled her eyes, playfully bumping shoulders with the tom. "That's just cause that's what I wanted you to think. I'm not blind!" Their gazes lock for a moment, before Kingfur glances away, his will power crumbling by the second. Had her eyes alway been that blue? Was that some kind of trick to make him let down his guard? Is there some kind of herb that makes your eyes bluer?

Kingfur takes an instinctive step away from the she-cat, and she hesitates, her gaze dropping as she continues dejectedly, "Juneau's a good guy, don't get me wrong, I'm sure he'd make a great mate, but we're just not on the same page, you know? He deserves someone who's gonna make him happy, and that's not me. It's never gonna be me. But, when I say 'never' he just hears 'not now'." Her eyes flick nervously between her paws as her voice trails off.

This isn't a prank. The realisation washes over him all to late, as Kingfur searches for something to say to her, but caught off guard he comes up empty. Rosehiptree clears her throat and flicks her tail, raising her head once again, and summoning a polite smile. "Well I just wanted to uh, say thanks for getting him off my back for a while." She steps to the side, turning back to camp, and Kingfur's stomach twists.

"Hey, uh-" Having her attention turned back to him once again made some childish part of Kingfur wish he had just let her walk away. But he steeled himself, plastering a confident grin on his face to make up for the fact that his stomach seemed to be trying to climb up out of his throat. "I'm glad I could help, and..." Kingfur's brain was working overtime to find something witty. He wanted to make her laugh again. "I'm glad that you were entertained. That'll make it worth it when he slits my throat in my sleep later tonight."

Rosehiptree grinned again, circling back to his side. "Well at least you'll have died for a worthy cause." Kingfur was going to die right here if she kept smiling at him like that. Would that count as a worthy cause? The tip of his tail flicked rapidly as she approached.

Bolstered by his reciprocated playfulness, Rosehiptree stepped in front of him, brushing the length of her body across his chest, "Of course, if you needed some protection I could always sleep in your nest tonight." Her tail flicked under his chin as she started back to camp once again.

Every fur on Kingfur's pelt stood on end. If he had any brain function at this moment he might worry over his resemblance to a porcupine, but even if he had the mind to do something about it, he couldn't have, as despite feeling like his blood was being heated over a flame, his muscles suddenly seemed to be made of unmovable stone. Perhaps this was a prank, intending to leave him frozen in the middle of this trail for a returning patrol to discover.

"Catch me something while you're out. A puffed up ptarmagin prefferably!" Rosehiptree called to him over her shoulder.

“Y-yeah.” Kingfur stuttered, praying to starclan that his lungs would remember how to work before he passed out. Or at least that he wouldn't topple over before Rosehiptree was out of sight. Mediator heirs weren't supposed to do that, but Kingfur figured that starclan would understand the extenuating circumstances and take pity on him.

That's all for today folks! If you enjoy this I'll do it more! It's a great way for all you background character loving freaks (affectionate) to get some more time with your poor forgotten gays. And it also lets me expand on some ideas that are hard to fit into the comic, like Rosehiptree's complicated feelings about Juneau, which is really fun for me! She's just a heart throb idk what to say. Every man of appropriate age is falling for her. (Except Cave he's too busy being poisoned)

[elysiuminfra]

i want to talk about walmart for a second. if you haven’t worked or known someone who worked for walmart, you probably don’t know how bad it is. most people don’t, so i want to talk about it.

there’s a points system for absences. if you miss work, and can’t cover it with accrued time off (because you don’t just Get time off - it builds up over time. it takes about a month of straight work to get a day off.) you get a point. five points and you’re at risk of termination. all managers - team leads, and above them, coaches - have the power to excuse points so that you don’t get fired. some do, so you don’t lose your job. most don’t. five days, that’s it.

if you miss more than three shifts of work due to a medical issue, you have to go through a third party company (which isn’t really third party.) to get a medical exception so you don’t lose your job. it is hard to get this. they need a lot of documentation to prove that you somehow deserved to miss work. they don’t accept regular doctors notes. this is somehow nebulously legal. you are also forced to work while sick and infectious. flu, strep, covid, doesnt matter for all departments except produce and deli. even then, they only send you home if you throw up *at work* or have food-related illnesses. every other department you’re not allowed to go home. more than likely you are being exposed to someone who’s sick at walmart, because its either come in sick or get fired.

i work hard. everyone *has* to work hard. you are on your feet 8 hours a day. you can’t sit. there are no surfaces to sit on. some departments are harder than others. i worked in OPD, the online grocery fulfillment department. i would walk, bare minimum, 7 to 8 miles a day, hauling sometimes over 200 pounds of groceries. every day. now i work in the deli. you are constantly moving. this is very typical for the deli - you are given too many tasks to perform in one day. most days i can barely get enough done. i know people don’t take their legally entitled second breaks. I know people who have to work off the clock just to get everything done. my department - as is *most other departments* - is understaffed. i cook, clean, work the slicer, and dispense food at the same time. and trust me when i tell you the standards of cleanliness in my department is high, but in practice it is very, very poor. simply because there is usually only one of us working back there, and we just can’t do everything right all at once.

none of the “fresh” food in the bakery / produce area is fresh. the bread is baked in store, but the dough is made and frozen elsewhere. sometimes it’s been frozen for weeks. everything is shockingly artificial. same with produce. you’re better off buying your produce elsewhere, or even locally. walmart has been fraught with recall after recall.

people are cheated out of retirements. so many people I know that are at retirement age simply can’t. there are people working here in their 70s. they are being overworked. there are a lot of teenagers that work up front. they are being overworked. I know two kids who are disabled that work the register. they aren’t allowed to sit. one had to fight to be able to get a medical accommodation and only got one when he threatened to sue, because not taking a doctor’s note for an accommodation is illegal. they do it anyways. there are so many people i know personally that are disabled, have chronic pain, have mobility issues, and can’t sit. or walk miles and miles a day. one of my coworkers recently quit because she tore both rotator cuffs in her shoulders from this job. this job disables you. it kills you. (just look up how many people have died on the job due to negligence. it is not a small amount.)

even the prices are fake. sales are fake. rollback is fake. i notice how things are priced and they rarely change, even when they say they’re on sale. it’s a scam. you are being scammed.

we are overworked and underpaid for our labor. (speaking of, wages used to be higher by several dollars a couple years ago. they lowered them. my department paid 20 an hour. it only pays 16 now. almost all other departments are at a flat 14. it used to be 16.)

wage theft, lack of breaks, overtime violations, lack of sick leave, chronic understaffing and chronic abuse from management, not terminating employees that sexually harass coworkers, and piles and piles and piles of responsibilities. all of this is to say, walmart only operates because of how much they exploit their workers, and it’s in the top of the Fortune 500 list. it is impossibly dire. and it is in EVERY SINGLE store, because that is just how the work culture operates.

all salaried management is also given guides on union busting. unionization is impossible. there was one store that they completely shut down because of successful unionization efforts, laying off hundreds of people, and blamed it on “faulty plumbing.”

one last thing - if you are assaulted by a customer, you cannot defend yourself. nobody can help you, because none of us are allowed to put our hands in any capacity on a customer. if you are assaulted, you have no choice but to run and hide. I’ve heard of a worker at my store that was assaulted repeatedly over several days from people who would come in and beat her. they weren’t banned, and she was fired for fighting back. if you fight back, you’re fired immediately, no exceptions.

all of this is to say shop elsewhere. buy locally. buy at other stores. you will get better quality items and produce literally ANYWHERE else. if you can’t, be kind to Walmart workers. theres abuse at every step of the chain. even on the supply side. walmart is a corporate dystopian monster that only makes its money off of intense labor violations.

tl;dr don’t shop at walmart. it’s not worth it

[connielingus423]

So I read Christian’s comment and I don’t think he’s saying he doesn’t care about Vi, y’all.

I think it’s very clear from the creation of the show that Vi is loved and admired and well cared for in these writer’s hands

Everyone was

I think what he was saying explicitly was, the story overall is called arcane. It’s about the waking of arcane in PNZ. And parts of Vi’s story intersect with that. And you can only show so much in one 9 one hour episodes.

Arcane wasn’t Modern Family or Abbot Elementary - those shows are an ensemble but there’s really one or two driving the story. And they’re character pieces where we explore a single individual’s growth or experience.

I think of arcane as an environmental story.

It’s more, “here’s how this thing came to be” aka hextech AND the arcane - to build toward a runeterra that is accessible and understandable for the general public to promote a video game. I don’t think that cheapens characterization nor storytelling. But informs overall story direction WHILE giving us character moments of exploration and growth and pain and love.

Do I wish we saw every minute of Vi’s existence and Caitlyn’s growth? Yeah. Of course. But was that the full focus of the story? No. And that’s okay. That doesn’t mean vi got shafted or hated or ignored. It just means that the story served a different purpose. And recognizing what kind of story we’re being told is a hard task. And it’s a really big lift of critical thinking we as an audience gotta do.

Some folks decided we were getting a character piece and they were wrong. Not their fault. Expectations being set for multiplayer games vs single player games will do that to us. (We as an audience tend to hyperfixate on individuals rather than the overarching story. It’s why folks remember the odyssey, but not Jason and the argonauts as much. The odyssey is about Odysseus. Jason and the argonauts - it can be argued - is about the journey and ensemble)

All this is to say, I don’t think these writers hated vi or ignored vi or sacrificed vi for the story. I truly don’t. I’m so very satisfied with the growth we got of vi. The butch who loves too hard. Who tries every time to do the right thing. Who fails. But gets back up and loves again. Loves some more. Who really is just a traumatized kid in a grown up suit still trying to deal with that using her fists, her street smarts, and her big. Giant FUKKIN. Heart.

I don’t think the arcane team hated Vi AT ALL. On the contrary, I think they loved her so much, they made conscious choices to not depict certain things SO THAT the fandom could engage. Could fill in the gaps. Could interact.

Fan art and fan content is such a strong nexus for iteration in complicated lore like this, I would bet money on the fact that they decided not to show specific things so that we could create it for us. (Ekko and jinx decorating for battle, CaitVi reconnecting immediately after Cait looses her eye, Tobias apologizing to Vi for snapping in his grief. Etc. etc. etc.)

And one could argue that is lazy and exculpatory and not how stories should be told.

But I disagree vehemently. I think stories serve a purpose. It’s why they have a title that tells you what it is and what you’re gonna get.

And this title was Arcane. The arcane woke up. PNZ are forever changed. Machine Herald was formed. Champions rose. And fell. That was the story of this show. The rest is up to us. 🫂

And I for one, think that’s really neat. And a triumph. In storytelling, characterization, and world building. 🥰

But that’s just me.

All that said, I think you’re allowed to be disappointed and sad you didn’t get what you expected! But being a jerk about a misunderstanding isn’t something Vi would do (or at least she’d feel really bad about the misunderstanding after and apologize. Big time).

But let’s not twist words and be cruel to a storyteller (or any storyteller) who clearly has so much love for this story and these characters in their hearts.

Give good faith, get good faith, y’all. Let’s be like Vi, big Hearts, let’s be like Vi and build to the next moment. Love big. Love hard. And do our best to be kind. C’ept for when folks don’t deserve it. 💞

[daisymbin]

45. "you really trust me with your secrets, huh?"

y/n drunkenly confesses to Chan after a night out with their friends

!!! thank you for requesting 🫶

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // chan's m.list

fluff prompt #45: "you really trust me with your secrets, huh?"

you’re tipsy, wobbling slightly as chan steadies you with a hand on your shoulder. the others had scattered after your group night out, and somehow, the task of walking you home fell to him. not that he minded.

“you don’t have to do this,” you say, words slightly slurred but still sweet. “i can walk home myself.”

“you could barely walk down the stairs without holding onto me,” he teases, a grin tugging at his lips. “what kind of friend would i be if i just left you?”

“a bad one,” you reply immediately, leaning into him like you already trust him more than anything.

the quiet buzz of the city fills the space between you two, and chan keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. your cheeks are flushed, whether from the alcohol or the cool night air, and you’re humming a little tune he doesn’t recognize.

“what are you humming?” he asks, mostly just to keep you talking.

“something you’d like,” you reply cryptically, then giggle like you’ve said something funny.

chan shakes his head, amused but also hyper-aware of how close you are to him, how your warmth is seeping into his side. he’s spent plenty of nights like this with you, but something feels different. maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him, all soft and unguarded.

“you’re quiet tonight,” you say suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look up at him.

“am i?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

you nod. “you usually talk more. always making me laugh. i like that about you, you know.”

chan feels his heart do a little flip at your words. he brushes it off with a laugh, trying to keep things light. “guess i’m just tired from carrying everyone’s drinks tonight.”

you narrow your eyes at him like you don’t quite believe him but let it go, resuming your unsteady steps.

“can i tell you a secret?” you ask after a moment, your voice quieter now.

chan glances at you, his brows furrowing. “a secret? is this something i’ll have to take to the grave?”

“maybe,” you say, and there’s a teasing edge to your tone, but your expression is serious.

“go for it,” he says, his curiosity piqued.

you stop walking again and turn to face him, your gaze locked on his like you’re trying to decide something. chan feels his chest tighten under the intensity of it.

“i like you, chan,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “like… really like you. a lot.”

chan blinks, completely frozen as he processes your words. you’re still looking at him, vulnerable and unsure, and it hits him all at once—this isn’t a joke, and it’s definitely not just the alcohol talking.

“you… really trust me with your secrets, huh?” he says finally, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

you nod, looking down at your feet. “you’re the only one i’d want to tell.”

chan doesn’t know what to say. his heart is pounding, and his head is spinning, but not in the way he’d expect. because somehow, despite the shock, it feels… right.

“hey,” he says, stepping closer to you. you look up, your eyes wide and a little glassy.

“if this is some kind of drunken mistake—”

“it’s not,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i was too scared. it just… it feels easier now. maybe its the drinks.”

chan feels his lips curve into a smile, his heart swelling with something he can only describe as pure happiness.

“you really like me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nod again, your cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

chan doesn’t think—he just reacts, pulling you into a gentle hug. you tense for a moment before melting against him, your arms wrapping around his waist.

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes searching his face like you’re trying to make sure he’s serious.

“is it okay if i continue to like you?”

“only if-,” he pauses, laughing softly, “only if its okay for me to continue liking you too.”

you smile then, and it’s the kind of smile that makes him think he’d do anything to see it again.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 29/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@xyuki-iris ha chiesto: I LOVE YOU'RE ART ALSO GOOD FOOD But I have a what if What if Redson found Mk having a panic attack over something serious about him being Trans.

Ouch poor baby Red Son would totally support MK and try to calm him down

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: First of all your story is glorious and congrats on getting lmk at the very top. Second does Mk want to work on his relationship with Nuwa. I think Nuwa did truly love Mk but she also loved everyone else on earth equally. Mk has forgiven Mac who actually made an effort to hurt Mk (past mistakes) while Nuwa was opposed but still didn't stop Mk from not fixing the pillar of heaven.

I always felt like after S5 his relationship with Nuwa is similar to the one Steven had with Rose after S5 of SU. So it's- complicated

@audioandart ha chiesto: mayhaps a silly question, but towards the very start of the mk shadow peach stuff when mk first shadows into the wall. He says "why is everything *more* flat". Is this implying he already sees the world as 2d the way we do or am I perhaps missing something? 😅 (I love your work! Have a good day 🫰)

ahah yeah I was!!

@fake-anjel ha chiesto: Your comic makes me stay awake at night thinking of the next cap, making theories and making imaginary scenarios and imaginary gacha reactions to them for some reason. I was wondering... If Wukong and Macaque have a child (hypothetically, and by the biological way) wich one would be the oven for the bun? You have a fan from Brazil<3

Well, I would say Wukong, but here comes the question: a Stone Monkey, born from a stone, would be able to reproduce themself? There are no other like the four celestial primates and MK, so I would assume that they weren't able to- reproduce normally. Also if they would does it mean the womb is a stone as well???

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Just asking if Wukong is trans do his female organs also count as part of his un-glamored form or does he stay with his male ones when he drops his glamour? Also what does his glamour include in your au just out of curiosity?

No under the glamour and shapeshift he still has female organs

@dandy-doodles ha chiesto: I'm VICIOUSLY consuming your comic rn - It actually came across my feed from a reblog. Never watched the show before. Loved the comic so much I binged the entire series and now I'm sat with the task of reading JTTW. This hyperfixation is your fault I love you for it. @ivoronical ha chiesto: Hi! I don’t know how tumblrs asks work because I’ve never used them before, but just wanted to say that your art is ✨fabulous✨ and you’re shadowpeach bio parents au has convinced me to rewatch the show entirely. It’s also made Macaque one of my favorite characters and because of that I am halfway through making a cosplay of him completely from scratch and I’m very excited to finish it:) Anyways I’ve rambled enough. Have a nice day!!! @starzz-twi ha chiesto: Can I just say how much I adore your art! It inspires so much that I might try drawing lmk again 🫶🫶🫶🫶 @artemismoorea03 ha chiesto: I hope you know that your Bio Parents AU fills every waking moment. I swear I only get on Tumblr anymore to see if you've posted something. I eat up any art you post regardless of what fandom it is and I just have to tell you that your art tastes like a blue raspberry icee (the best kind). I hope you're having a fantastic day ♡

AWWW TYSM TO ALL OF YOU!!!!

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: What will family gatherings be like now that MK has 4 parents? Like his birthday or end-of-year celebrations. I want to see more of the dynamics of the 4 parents interacting and talking about their one and only child.🐷🤓☀️🌙

oH CHAOTIC INDEED

Anonimo ha chiesto: How does it feel to be one of those artists that like 70% of the fandom knows about

wait is that a random number or???

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we maybe see Macaque interact with Bai He or Mei?? (I'm starved of DarkHorse/EnderDragon/NightFlare Duo and Raspberry/Black Cat Duo) But I am interested if you might make them interact! :D Anyways, I love how your art got better by each comic, you can see the improvement from the slight sharpness of the shapes in the first comics and the now softer lines.

mmmmm I will maybe I'll do some small scenes

Anonimo ha chiesto: Past Wukong working out: I'ma get so strong. Ain't no one beating me Present Wukong working out: I'ma be so good at hugging my son and husband.

AWWWWWW WHAT A GOOD BABA!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! I wanted to ask if we'll see just how sensitive Macaque's hearing is in your Au in a future comic maybe? Like... a thunderstorm happens or something when he's around FFM watching Mk and Wukong train or something that affects his hearing badly? But either way, love your art and style! :)

mmmm don't know if I have a scene planned for that...

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does Wukong and Macaque know about the other 2 Celstial Primates, Red-Hoarse Baboon and Lomg-Armed Gibbon, in your Bio Shadowpeach parents au?

I think so? In JTTW he knew so I would assume the same?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Macaque use his future vision at any time again in this comic? We now know in this Au he hasn't used it in years. But maybe will he use it again soon? I bet he won't but I still wanted to ask :)

not unless he is forced to

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve been listening to a song from a Pokémon movie: Always Safe by Cynthia, and I think of the Shadowpeach bioparents Au everytime

AWW that's beautiful the lyrics omg!!!

@notjustonefandom1 ha chiesto: So, I've been thinking about MK's staff. After he got it do you think he develops a habit of clasping his hands together, especiallywhen stressed or threatened? With the fluidity and energy he moves with, I think it would take a while for him yo find a chance to Summon the staff, especially if he isn't fast at it yet, so he just starts keeping his hands pressed together in preparation.

ooooohhh that's a cool idea!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Where does the Macaque has white fur head canon come from? I'm new to this fandom and I'm still learning things and I see it everywhere

I honestly have no idea but I guess either because Japanese Macaque are white furred or bc he died.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so this may be a sensitive topic and definitely doesn't need to be answered so TW Did mk ever go through a depression thing after trying to die to save the universe in the last season in your au? A in like what if Wukong and Mac find out he used to SH?

hish. I'm not probably the right person to answer this. Probably he did had depression tendencies but didn't recognize them until someone pointed them out.

Anonimo ha chiesto: This ask os Going to be a little weird But Can I See Macaque Pining Wukong on the wall?In a Flirty way?(pretty Please?) I love Your Art so much!👑❤️‍🔥💎

Ouh.. *cleans forehead from sweat* is getting hot in here... maybe?

@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Wukong: OH BUDDHA, HE CALLED ME BABA!!!!! (SCREAMS WITH JOY) What DBK heard over the phone with his brother: OH andhdbrjjsm (feral monkey screeching)

Poor DBK gotta deal with the gossip now

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: OMG THE MOST RECENT PART IM CRYING But I also love how Mac's first instinct is just grabbing Wukong and being like: "get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of-" you know? It's very funny but also builds on past comics since they woke MK up last time smth like this happened and I'm just !!!!!

GOTTA MAKE THE BABY SLEEP

@eerieqloss ha chiesto: OSISJJWJSJSJWWN OKAY WAIT SO IS MK GONNA START CALLING THEM MAMA AND BABA INSTEAD OF THEIR NAMES CONTINUALLY OR WAS IT JUST THAT ONE TIME

It wont be a one time!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I hope you are resting as you should Always remember to take your time, rest first, then work, ofc as far as possible 😅. I have a fun question (if you have the time ofc 👉🏻👈🏻): will we see Feral MK again? But you know, like another kind of "demonic learning" that maybe wukong or Mac will teach him to control or see that it's not bad as it looks

For now i want my baby to either be happy or traumatized not angry.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like i remember you asking about happier shadowpeach songs for your playlist, but I can't find the post anymore. But if you're still looking, Livingston's new song Glow reminds me of them and also made me think about the eclipse scenes in the comic.

Several of Livingston's other songs also give me shadowpeach vibes, but I think about them so much that I might just be seeing them everywhere at this point.

Oooh true a lot of his song fits really well!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: This is the only instance where having a kid really did bring a couple together.

TRUE LMAO

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo...Wukong and Mac in the DBK Palace I have a question in my mind!!!! Actually I hope you to see it and draw it.. if you don't wanna it's okay! What if DBK & PIF flirt with each other or smt like this u know in front of shadowpeach?! They will probably look to each other and then blushing hard

HAHAHHA poor souls they would totally think of wanting to kiss each other but can't because they are emotionally constipated.

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part 7

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

MDNI

Warnings: Angst, violence towards reader, reader attacked by men, a pup gets hurt (but don't worry he's ok) Blood, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions, Father of reader's death mentioned. Simon's past mentioned

Authors Note - It's here, the part you've all been waiting for. The truth

MASTERLIST

They sat around the table, Simon sat on Y/N’s right and Price on her left. She was drained and didn't have the energy to do this. She looked over at Simon who looked nervous. 

“Do you want me to tell them?”

“No I can do it.” He took a deep breath. “Just tryin to figure out where to start.” 

After taking a moment he looked at Soap, Gaz and Price. When he looked over at Y/N she was biting her thumbnail with a look of deep concern on her face. That’s when he realised that he had been so caught up on how telling the team would affect him and his peace he momentarily forgot that by exposing all of this, she was being put in a place of vulnerability too. 

“I need to tell you a bit of background first and it won’t be short.This farm, our home. It’s Y/N’s family home. She grew up here. Her dad was a military man and growing up all she ever wanted to do was follow in his footsteps. So when she enlisted she worked damn hard to do just that. She ended up with top marks in both her physical and written exams. She excelled and joined an elite Canadian task force. After being with them for a bit she was chosen for the Specialized Snipper Program in the UK, and that’s where we met.” 

He took a moment to look at her to make sure she was ok, and then continued. 

“I was a weird, intense angry loner that was hyper focused on training and being top of the program. She was the only female and had the same goal and intensity. No one spoke to either of us, so we started working together. We challenged each other and would argue over who was better. I wasn’t there to make friends but I started not minding being around her.”

He saw Y/N smile at that and then continued. 

“At Christmas we all got leave and when Y/N found out I had nowhere to go she decided I was coming home with her. She didn’t even ask me, she just walked into my room, handed me a plane ticket and told me to be ready in an hour. Deciding whatever she had planned had to be better than staying on base, I obeyed.” 

He looked up at the guys now. 

“I don’t exactly talk about it but I had a fucked up childhood. Real traumatic shit. So when we got here and the first thing Momma Lynn did was hug me, I uh.. I was shocked. In my experience parents don’t hug. But instead of backing off when she felt my tension she just gave me a quick squeeze and then pulled back, looked in my eyes and gave me a kind smile.”

Y/N reached over and squeezed his hand.  

"Y/N has four sisters so the house was busy and loud.” He chucked at that. “I remember walking into the living room and all the girls were playing a board game at the dining room table and they were bickering and yelling at each other one moment and then next laughing loudly. Her dad was sitting on the couch reading a book. I looked at him and asked him if all the noise bothered him. He looked at me and then the girls and smiled. He said that no it didn’t bother him, in fact it was his favourite sound in the world.”

Y/N reached up and wiped a tear that was rolling down her face. 

“Again I’d never experienced anything like this before. Even on Christmas morning I sat back and watched as they all opened presents for each other, just enjoying the moment. Then Momma Lynn handed me some gifts with a smile. I’d never gotten a Christmas gift before, I just stared at them, and I’ll admit I almost didn’t want to open them, instead I wanted to tuck them away forever, charish them. 

Y/N saw me and sat beside me, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it before encouraging me to open them. I expected something generic like a box of chocolates and some socks but it wouldn’t have mattered what it was, I would’ve loved it regardless. Instead I opened the first gift and it was an artbook and some really nice drawing pencils. Momma Lynn was watching and she explained that Y/N had told them that I like to doodle all the time and that I was really good. 

The next gift I opened was a nice wooden box with my last name etched on the top and inside was a high end gun maintenance kit. When I looked up her dad just looked at me and explained he’d gotten one from his father when he joined up and he’d done the same for Y/N. I actually got a bit emotional and had to pretend like I had to use the washroom so I could gather myself.

It was the best Christmas I had ever had in my life. When we were leaving Momma Lynn took me aside and made me promise to come home with Y/N the next holiday we had leave and of course I agreed. After that, I started wearing the mask, because I had something I cared about.” 

Simon looked up and saw everyone looking at him intently, listening to his every word. 

“For the next year, anytime we got leave I came home with Y/N and by the following Christmas, Momma Lynn and Y/N’s dad sat me down. They told me that they wanted me to be a member of their family. They told me that they thought of me as one of their kids since the first Christmas and they wanted me to feel the same. I actually cried openly for the first time in years. I had a family. They’d even set up a bedroom for me, said I could come and go as I pleased but hoped it was more coming than going. The girls all felt the same and so that was the day I gained a mom, a dad and five sisters. It wasn’t legally done but that didn’t matter to any of us. 

Then something unexpected happened. I fell in love. We both fought it for a long time. I didn’t want to jeopardise what I had and even though it killed me, I refused to risk it. It wasn’t until Mom and dad sat me down one day. They told me that nothing I could ever do would ever change the fact that I was their son. She gave me her grandma’s ring and both gave their blessing. So five years ago, I married Y/N’s sister Ava. Y/N was my ‘best woman’, we had the wedding in the yard and it was the happiest moment of my life. That was until this past April when Ava gave birth to our daughter Clara.” 

He glanced  around the table and saw tears in not only Y/N’s eyes but Soaps as well though he quickly wiped them away.

“Something you should know is Y/N had been asked to join the 141 before I was. Kate had approached her because she’d been doing work for her and knew how good of an agent she was. Then Price approached me. We discussed it and she offered to back out, let me have the team. I wanted to work with her again and knew she deserved a spot on this team though. So I told her if we kept our relationship with each other a secret, if we pretended we didn’t know each other to protect the family then we could be on the same team. She hated the idea of keeping secrets but agreed. 

There are several reasons why I didn’t tell you, and I didn’t let Y/N. The first being that this family, my family, is more important to me than anything in the world and I would die before ever letting anything happen to them. We make a lot of enemies out there and I keep them protected by keeping my mouth shut. The second reason is that when I have this mask on, I’m Ghost. I do what needs to be done and get as dirty as I need too. But when I’m here, the mask comes off and I’m Simon. Sharing that’s hard for me. It’s a trust that I have to build and makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. You’ve only ever seen me as Ghost and I wasn’t ready to share this side of me with you at the time.” 

“Are you ready now?” Soap asked 

“I am. I’d been thinking about it before I found out that we were coming here. Y/N had told me she wanted to tell John the night we blew up the warehouse, before things went to shit. I’d come to the conclusion that it was time.” 

John looked over at Y/N sadly. God he fucked this up. 

“So you and Y/N aren’t married with children.” Gaz confirmed

“No Gaz, we're not married with children. We do love each other though, just in a sibling way instead of romantic way.” Y/N shrugged

“Never said I loved you.” Simon teased beside her 

“You do all the time you softy.” 

“Ok but I still don’t get all the secrecy behind Y/N and her background.” Soap said confused. 

“Well that is another thing I suppose.” Simon looked at Y/N and she nodded. 

He got up and walked over to a painting on the wall, pulled it forward revealing a safe. Typing in the number he opened the safe door and pulled out a file, walked over and placed it on the table. 

Y/N ran her finger over the top of the file and frowned. 

“I know at this point it doesn’t matter much anymore but this is my full file, no holds bar. The reason everything is redacted is because of our dad. Like Simon said, he was a military man. The issue is that he is a very famous man in the military community. His call sign was Phantom 1.” 

“Holy shit, your da is Phantom 1!” Soap exclaimed. 

“I don’t understand, who is Phantom 1?” Gaz asked 

“He was an insanely efficient agent ‘n’ a fuckin amazin sniper. He wis sae weel known in the community that when he died last year, they had tae have two funerals. One fur his folk and one for a' th’ military personnel that wanted tae attend. They even streamed it tae bases a’ over the world. His identity was sae weel hidden that his folk had tae wear veils ‘n’ masks to his funeral! He’s a legend.” 

Soap looked up at Y/N then realised what he just said.

“Oh shit love, I’m sorra.” 

“It’s fine.”

But she felt a lump form in her throat. She looked over at Simon and he squeezed her hand. 

“I’ll take it from here. As Soap said, our da was good at what he did, but with that brought enemies. Hence our super secret, super protected ‘farm’. There are cameras everywhere, the walls behind the hedges have motion and weight sensors, there’s a lock down procedure for the house. It’s how Y/N grew up. So when she joined up they knew that if anyone found out that Y/N was his daughter there was a chance that she would be used as leverage to coax him out of retirement or to just get plain old revenge. So they scrapped any connection to her dad and that included Canada. Hence the redacted file.” 

Y/N looked up at the team and sighed.

“I’m going to ask that even though I’m probably not going to be on the team after this, to protect this information even after I leave? Even though he’s gone we still don’t want this information leaked.” 

“Can we talk about that please Y/N?” John asked 

“Not right now. I’m emotionally and physically exhausted. I also don’t think any of us are in the right mindset at this moment to discuss. So let’s table it for now. I’m 10 feet away from my momma and I just want to get up there.” 

They all nodded and she gave them a soft smile. 

“Si rules?”  

“Yeah ok. I guess now that we’ve explained the situation I’ll get into rules and all that fun stuff. Like any other house, be polite, try and limit swearing especially around the kids.”

“Though they are used to it. Uncle Simon has a potty mouth and has to put a loonie in the jar every time he swears” Y/N added and the group laughed

“They’ll hold you to that too. The money goes to them so they’ll call you out every chance they get. Little buggers.”  

“What ta hell is a loonie?” Soap asked and Simon chucked

“A dollar. It’s a coin. I have a bucket of them in my apartment, remind me to give you some. Anyways it’s a free roam house, the kitchen is open, nothing’s really off limits. The biggest rules are no weapons on person. Don’t worry there are stashes all over the house, we just don’t want the kids seeing a gun peeking out from behind your shirt or god forbid one of them getting their hands on one.”

“How many kids are there here?” Gaz frowned

“Well our sister Charlie has two, a boy named Ky who just turned eighteen and a girl named Meadow who just turned fourteen. Then our sister Brooke has twin girls that are five, Freya and Idun, we call her Edie. Those are the ones you have to watch out for. Then me and Ava have Clara that’s eight months. Y/N and Ems are child free.” 

“And they all live here?” 

“No, but they’ve been told to come here for protection. Ava and I live here. Dad converted two rooms in the basement into a small apartment for us. Y/N lives here too, and has a room in the basement as well. Then Momma Lynn obviously and recently our Grandma moved in so mom could take care of her.”

“Which ones are single?” Soap asked with a smirk 

“Johnny I swear to god if you even look at one of my sisters I’ll rip your dick off.” Simon growled. 

Beside him though Y/N looked at Soap and mouthed Emma and Charlie. Then smiled and winked at him. 

“Alright, the last rule’s the most important. We don’t talk about work. Ever. So no chatting about past missions, injuries, guns, no call signs, none of that. If we need to talk about anything we come down here.”

Everyone nodded in agreement

“So that’s it. We’ll go in the room next door, it has lockers for all of us so anything that doesn’t fit in that standard is put in the locker. Laswell also sent over some stuff for us to make us comfortable and it’s been placed in your locker. Any questions before we call it?” 

Everyone shook their heads and as Simon stood up, Soap and Gaz followed suit and they headed out of the room with the exception of John and Y/N. She picked her file up off the table and held it out to him. 

“You can read it if you want. I’m not hiding anything anymore. All my merit is listed out for you.” 

He looked at the file and then took it from her hand. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of it.” 

“I know. Me too. But what’s done is done and even though you’re sorry it doesn’t erase the things you said, or what you’ve done. We’ve got to move forward, it’s just not the way I thought we were going too or how it would look.” 

“Is there anything I can say to fix this? You said you love me and I need to tell you…” 

“John, stop. It’s too late. And anything you say at this point just seems disingenuous. Like you’re only saying what you think I want to hear to fix this. It’s over, we have to accept that.” 

She left the room and John felt his heart break. He placed the file on the table and followed her out of the room. 

[may--hawk]

now sleeps the swan

A very happy read-your-smut-around-your-extended-family season to all those who celebrate!

And for those who don't, may I suggest some Ancient Greek wingsmut?

Summary:

“Oi,” says Crowley. “Angel. Remember you owe me that favor?” “Oh, do I? I must do. Dear me, I seem to forget, sometimes.” Before the arrangement, there were favors. Which is how Aziraphale finds himself at a Greek crossroads just before midnight making a crossroads deal on Crowley’s behalf. Trouble is, he’s not the only one at the crossroads. A goddess is there, and she’s got a deal in mind of her own… Featuring dreams, deals, wing-grooming, and summer in Athens.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 15,114

Before the Arrangement, there were favors.

It had started back when they had both been cramped on that awful boat for so terribly long, in excess of four months, and tempers were fraying, not helped by the fact that they were short on food, Noah’s sons having dumped some of the feed - that they had been instructed specifically by an angel to bring - in favor of more casks of wine. Regrettably, the animals couldn’t drink the wine, and so the animals and humans were getting terrifically testy, big surges of wrath and avarice making Aziraphale itchy under his robes. 1 He should’ve never suffered the demon to stay on the boat, he’d thought. It was clear all these sins were his fault.2 Still, the demon had come in useful. Aziraphale had been complaining to Crowley one afternoon about his appointed task, which was to take the form of a bird and fly for leagues and leagues and leagues until he’d found land for the humans - “which,” he’d said, “it’s not so much that I mind the flying, haven’t flown since, oh, think the last time was the War," and at Crowley’s slight stiffness, he’d continued, hurriedly, “It’s just Gabriel couldn’t tell me exactly where the land was, and how long I’d have to fly. He just told me to have faith and I would find it.” Aziraphale looked at the waters all around them, higher even than the mountains. They’d been risen by Her wrath halfway up to the sky. The sun, he swore, felt hotter up here. It was cold at night, too, and more than one night he’d spotted Crowley down in the hold with the animals for warmth. “It’s just that I don’t see any land. Do you?” At Crowley’s head shake, he leaned in, very close, and said, nearly in his ear. “If you ask me, I don’t think Gabriel actually knows.”

The corner of Crowley’s mouth twitched.

“And then,” said Aziraphale, settling back, “there’s the wings. What this humidity will do to the pinions, I’m sure I don’t know.”

“Tell you what,” said Crowley, unfolding himself from the deck - and Aziraphale put a hand to his eyes because Crowley stood up against the sun, a long tall thing like a tree, something secure in all this water. “I’ll go out, look around, see if I see anything. I’ll fly back and let you know, you can take all the credit.”

Aziraphale’s stomach swooped. The boat must’ve pitched. These infernal waves, he thought, and then remembered they weren’t infernal, after all. All those people, he thought. He saw Crowley’s face. You can’t kill kids. “You’d do that?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley shrugged. “Been wanting to stretch my wings anyway.”

Continue reading on AO3.

@goodomensafterdark !

[yeahspider]

SWEET LIFE

A/n- this is so self indulgent. like seriously. maknae line x f. reader fluff yes plz! might get a hyung line version bc I like the concept (maybe if yall want it) but this is just a vibe so vibe with me. nsfw (weed mention) . enjoy and feel free to visit my inbox as I am taking requests. <3

Your apartment was a little crowded today. Considering it was everybody's off day. The boys decided to spend most of it at your place. Your apartment for them was a safe haven away from prying eyes and demanding schedules.

You didn't mind having them all over as you hated when you were alone. The noise they brought provided you a piece of comfort. After grueling rehearsals all week and your never-ending day job, this was a much-needed moment of peace.

“Someone take the scissors out of Jisung’s hand thank you very much!” you say as you prepare yourself for the task of taking down your braids. Your next appointment is in the upcoming week and you wanted to give your hair some time to breathe. With the length they're at, it was going to take a while. But of course, your boys are ever excited to help you out. Well most of them.

I feel like you’re scamming me babe.” says Seungmin as he grabs the scissors from Jisung. No one wanted to risk your wraith if he cut too high.

"I don't know what are you talking about Minnie I'd never scam you beloved," you say in your defense.

"yeah because five dollars is a completely reasonable nonscamming price," he says with a smile. Taking your braids gently out of the bonnet you had them in. Seungmin didn't want to pull on them if he could help it.

Jisung, now scissorless, took a seat beside you on the floor. Setting the blunt wraps on the coffee table in front of you. Preparing to roll for you and himself.

"I wish you would let me help more," he said with a pout on his face. You wanted to kiss it off him.

"you are helping sungie your presence is enough. It keeps me calm. Plus no one else rolls a blunt for me as good as you do." you comfort me as you kiss his now smiling lips. That seemed to satisfy him enough as he started the rolling process.

Felix came bounding into the living room from his napping spot in your room, flopping himself on the couch and picking up the remote to the TV. Channel surfing for something interesting to watch.

"Ugh, nothing is interesting to watch on TV. Felix complained while sliding down the couch to the floor as if he was melting in boredom.

"You could always just hook up the game and play Mario Kart or something. Go see if one of the boys wanna play with you," you suggested. Smiling at his antics as he crawled across the floor to give you a kiss. "You always have the best ideas, babe." He said as he practically skipped out of the room. Making your face flush at his praise. Just waving it off as Jisung teased you for your reaction.

A soft moan left your mouth as Seungmin got to the root of a braid. His hands gently unbraiding and giving your scalp a little rub to loosen up the tension. His hands felt so heavenly on your head after the rough week you had.

Felix took his time dragging a sleepy Jeongin into the room. It seems as if he found his gaming partner, although unwillingly. Going straight to the TV to set everything up, meanwhile, Jeongin sleepily made his way to you. Placing his head in your lap as he pulled himself closer to your stomach. You just laughed softly at his cat-like antics. Reminding you of a certain someone.

"Tell Felix to let me sleep." Jeongin groaned. His warm breath hits the exposed skin on your stomach. Hands hin his hair as you stroking softly.

"Now you know once Lix has his mind set on something there is no telling him anything." you comfort the boy.

"But I'm so tired and you're so warm and comfortable Don't make me go over there to that heathen."

Felix can get kind of crazy while gaming but before you could even suggest a solution the sunshine boy dragged the sleepy one out of your embrace. A groan erupts from the latter. There was no saving him now.

An object in front of your vision distracted you from the two gaming boys. It was the blunt Jisung rolled especially for you. To take the edge off a rough week. Encouraging you to take a hit he placed it right between your lips. Murmurung a "There you go. good girl." as you inhaled. Normally you would correct him for goodgirling you but today you didn't care. So you let him get away with it. Plus he could roll one hell of a blunt. And it was kind of hard to be cross with his hand on your thigh and Seungmin'd in your hair. In fact, you were quite content.

"Chan texted he and the hyungs should be home in a bit," Felix said from in front of the TV.

"Good, that's just enough time for Jisung to roll another one," you suggested. Tugging on the hem of his shirt. Maybe you were too high, because you really wanted him to take it off. Yeah, you were so high.

"Hey, I'm not rolling for those losers! I roll for you, and for you only! They have their own hands." Jisung protested as he offered it to Seungmin to which the younger declined, stating that he had to stay focused on your hair. Something about his statement made your heart swell. It's a nice feeling to be cared for.

Jisung then offered to blunt the other two in the room. They on the other hand accepted his offer. It was often he shared his blunts with anyone other than his girl. He said it was the gentlemen in him.

Time passed as you all waited for the older ones to get home. The more that passed the higher you got, and soon enough everyone in the room was higher than you originally intended to be. You could tell in the way everyone was lying to each other. Felix and Jeongin are a pile of limbs, their game long abandoned. Music is playing from the speakers as they whisper secrets to each other, giggling like school children while watching random videos on their phones. You were still seated between Seungmin's legs. His hands still dutifully unbraiding. Ever dedicated to his craft. But you could tell he was contact high as well. You could tell in the way he would kiss your head ever so often. A gentle reminder of his affection for you.

Jisung was sitting in your lap, playing with random parts of your body. Your face arms legs had all been prodded by him, not that it bothered you in the slightest. His touch left sparks all over you. You were having conversations about whatever came to mind. And finding comfort in one another. The atmosphere is warm and cozy. You wish every day could be like this.

[twstfanblog]

*~Thanks Give Me~* Pt 3

A/N: Third part ready and served! Yes I passed out writing this at least twice. So you can probably see it but at this point it's just gonna have to be. I have plans to do what I'm gonna call 'Winter Cleaning' since I wont be doing a Christmas fic this year. So lots of time to look back at all of my posted fics to fix typos and the such XD Word Count: 3.3K Pairings: Ruggie/Leona, Cater/Idia, Vil/Rook, Trey/Jade, Riddle/Floyd, Epel/Ace/Deuce/Jack Warnings: Swearing, Trans-headcanons, Drug mentions, Lying about pregnancy

Prev

The dinner was surprisingly pleasant. It was a possibility, Trein knew that. His students, if push came to shove, could act civilly to each other for extended periods of time. It still made his heart soften seeing them all around the table engaged in conversations. If he craned his head a little to the left he could see Lucius seated at the ‘Kids Table’. Demeaning? Possibly. But he knew his familiar wouldn't complain if he was receiving human food, not to mention the small tumbler of cream he had in place of the fruit punch the other children and Grim were given.

Looking to his right, Trein watched Cater take photo after photo of his plate. It was filled to the brim, a little tasteful piece from the most colorful dishes. But seeing him only pick at the food, Trein realized that was only his ‘Photo Plate’. The redhead was routinely picking off of Idia’s plate who was to Caters right. 

Thinking over the conversation he had with Yuu earlier that week, Trein placed his utensils down. Dabbing at his mouth to make sure no food was on his face, he cleared his throat, “Cater?”

The redhead in question snapped his head up, the flash of his camera flickering as it took a photo, “Yes? Sorry, is the flash bothering you, sir? I'm trying to see what lighting is better.”

"Nothing is the matter Cater, I wish to speak to you on other matters.”

“Oh?” Cater leaned his arm on the table, “Spill the tea.”

Trein linked his hands together, leveling Cater with a steady gaze, “You were given the a title as a task I believe?”

“Lol, yeah. Yuu says I'm ‘Gay Cousin’. Wont really tell me what I'm supposed to be doing though.”

“Oh, well this works out perfectly. Yuu alerted me as ‘Grandpa’, it was my task to ask you certain questions.”

“Oh, thank the Seven. Actual direction…”

Trein pulled his phone from his inner robe pocket along with his reading glasses. Putting his glasses on, he opened the notes app, “Now, I've heard you children say a few terms that I'm not aware of…would you tell me what a…’Gyatt’ is?”

Cater turned to Idia, grabbing his attention from his tablet, “Switch seats with me.”

“There's two T's.”

“Switch with me right the fuck now.”

Leona ate as much from his plate in big bites as possible. Ruggie was no better, the hyena basically shoveling food down his throat without even closing his mouth. Looking to his other side, he had to hold back the urge to smirk.

Malleus Draconia, the bane of his existence and the most aggravating thorn to ever find its way to his side.

When he had visited Ramshackle to offer more monetary support, Yuu had given him a second task. They had revealed to him that they told Malleus Thanksgiving was a holiday of compromise and togetherness, meaning you weren't allowed to fight on the day. They then told him to do everything in his power to piss Malleus off.

Taking a sip of his beer, Leona glanced at Malleus from the corner of his eyes, “So, gargoyles…”

It almost made him feel bad seeing how quickly Malleus perked up, green eyes wide and sparkling.

“Yes? what did you wish to discuss about them?”

“What's your favored style? I can admit to having a soft spot for animal pieces, but the Savanna uses more geometric and plant designs.”

Malleus could have vibrated out of his seat and into the sun from how excited he became. He quickly launched into a lecture, noting the various styles and the positives of each one. Leona spoke up at points, giving actual opinions and thoughtful insights on the topic.

“I will say Kingscholar, I didn't expect you to have such knowledge on gargoyles! You must come to my club at a later date to speak on them farther.”

“I just might. Talking about grotesques is enjoyable-”

“Gargoyles.”

Leona raised an eyebrow, humming as he took another sip of his beer.

Malleus was still smiling, though his pupils had dilated into slits, “Gargoyles. We are speaking on gargoyles.’

Shrugging, Leona could barely hide his smirk from behind his glass, “Same thing.”

Leona watched in hidden elation as Malleus’s face slowly dropped the longer he talked. It was worth the days of learning gargoyle architecture just to give wrong definitions and terms, each new avenue of knowledge torturing Malleus in his urge to argue and correct him.

Soon Malleus was leaned on the table, head resting on his hands to give himself support while Leona kept talking.

Leona smiled, leaning closer to Malleus, “And you know what really gargles my goyles?”

Malleus gags hard and quick, managing to cover his mouth and steel himself.

“...Did you almost throw up?”

“I did. A little…”

The laugh Leona let out could only make Malleus more frustrated. 

Kalim had completely forgotten about the conversation topic Yuu recommended he try. He remembered as the plate of grilled and buttered corn made its second pass in front of him. Grabbing a cob, he looked across the table, “Hey, Azul. What's your opinion on The stalk market right now?”

Azul paused, closing the note app on his phone to give Kalim his full attention, “Kalim, have you been taking note of the stock market?”

“Yeah. I've only started checking on it the past week or so, but man! It's pretty wild, huh?”

Smiling, Azul moved to place another scoop of pasta salad onto his plate along with a third slice of turkey, “True. The stock market can be a bit of a wild west to the untrained. Do you have any predictions for the new year? My stepfather and I love to place bets on which company will have the worst spring quarter.”

"Hmmm. I don't know. I can't remember the companies by name still. But man, I read about one that lost half of their product due to outside issues. I'm just worried that prices will increase since they had such a bad production period. Other companies deal in their certain type of stalk, but this company was the biggest provider…”

“...” Azul placed his utensils down, giving Kalim his complete attention, “Kalim what sources are you getting this information from?” Azul doesn’t watch the stock market obsessively but he’d at least notice something so severe.

“Oh, I just Miraed ‘Stalk Market’ and started reading. You should really look up some stuff…”

“Jamil-”

Jamil didn’t even look up from his plate, grabbing a second helping of food, “Don’t involve me with this.”

Sighing, Azul turns back to Kalim, “There is no way, such a large shift happened without me noticing. Plus, if only one company is affected in production, then it wouldn’t raise prices if there are other competitors. What is this stock in?”

“Stalks.”

“Yes…Which stock? Do you remember if this company was in electronics? Services? What ddi this company do?”

“Stalks! Azul, do you know what the stalk market is?”

“Kalim, let’s not start that conversation. Tell me, in plain words, what kind of stock you were researching.”

“Corn stalks.”

“...”

Jamil had turned to them, looking at Kalim across the table, “Are you fucking serious?”

Cater had his head in his hands, Trein still beside him listing off old and newer slang that he wanted definitions of. The professor growing more and more disapproving with every new term he learned. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this.

“And…’boofing’, do you know what boofing is?”

WHO WAS BOOFING- “Pregnant. I’m pregnant.” Cater nodded to himself, using the trap card Yuu had given him to shift any conversation in his favor.

Trein raised a brow, “Is that what boofing is?”

Idia had locked in the second Cater said pregnant, looking at him in terrified confusion, “How are you pregnant?”

“...” Cater played with his hair, looking away from his boyfriend, “It’s not yours.”

Ortho quickly leaned over to narrow his eyes at Cater, Idia still stunned in silence, “Who’s the father?”

“...” Cater shifted his eyes across the table, silently watching as Trey contently ate his food.

Jade took notice, his own amused smile slowly falling from his face as he realized Cater was focused on Trey.

Feeling more and more eyes on him, Trey looked up mid-bite, “...What?”

Cater sighed, fully committing to his bit, “Trey, I’m pregnant.”

“...” Trey made the mistake of looking to his side, catching the unblinking stare of Jade’s barely contained emotions before looking back at Cater, “Why are you telling me?”

“It’s yours.”

Trey quickly reached his hand out, pinning Jade’s wrist to the table just as the mer tightened his grip on his knife, “Cater, we have…never slept together.”

Rook spoke up from Trein’s left, pouting at Cater, “Monsieur Magicam, how are you not sure it’s mine?”

Vil lost every ounce of amusement, glaring at Rook as though he was poisoning him with his eyes alone, “Why would it be yours?”

“Oh, mon amor. Love is a flighty and fickle predator, it hunts and snatches its prey with little to no warning.” Turning back to Cater, he placed a hand over his heart, “Are you sure it’s not mine?”

Cater could barely keep his face start, nodding as he watched Trey start struggling to hold Jade down from stabbing either of them, “I’m pretty sure. I’ve been craving violets and worrying about the teeth of children-”

Jade hissed under his breath, glaring at Trey and trying to grab his knife with his other hand, “How dare you impregnate someone else!?” 

“I didn’t!?”

Vil said nothing, glaring at Rook as the wine in his hand slowly started to bubble and turn black. His eye twitched as his boyfriend continued to lament and plea for Cater to tell him he was the father of his child.

Idia, breaking out of his spiral of despair and confusion, mumbling out, “Wait, you don’t even like vaginal sex. How’d you get pregnant?”

“...”

Trein spoke up, turning to Rook beside him, “Do you know what boofing is?”

Four glasses deep in the wine he brought, Crewel swirled his glass and picked at the ham on his plate. Eyes roaming the table for someone to target.

“Oi, Beakfish, hand me the red sludge.”

Riddle sighed, glaring at Floyd, “Don’t be rude to our professor and it’s cranberry sauce. Red sludge is very unappealing…Plus, it’s more of a burgundy color.”

“Eh? It’s a sludge though? It’s got chunks and everything.”

Silver raised an eyebrow, pouring more gravy onto his food, “It looks more like a jelly to me.”

While the three students were debating on what to call the condiment, Crewel grabbed the small platter but kept it close to himself, “I’ll pass it if you can tell me the boiling point of a frost potion, Floyd.”

“That’s a trick question. Frost potions don’t boil but they heat to temp.”

“Hmmm. Odd you know that but left it blank on your last test. Along with a number of other questions.”

Floyd groaned, rolling his eyes and moving to reach across the table and grab the platter in Crewel’s hand, “I didn’t wanna! Tests are so annoying, be happy I even wrote on it this time…”

Riddle glared at his boyfriend, “Honestly Floyd. You have to learn to put in more effort in your schoolwork. Your grades would be better for it.”

Crewel turned his eyes to Riddle, raising an eyebrow, “Like how you should be doing more cardio and strength training outside of Physical Education?”

“...”

“You can’t do five pull-ups, Riddle.”

Silver spoke around the spoonfuls of mashed potato in his mouth, “Riddle is able to lift a saddle during club.”

“By himself?”

“...” Silver looked back to his plate, poking at his side of vegetables, “The horses are much taller than him…”

Lilia laughed, his glass full of sangria having been drained for a third time already, “Oh come now Crewel! Children tend to try to avoid difficult things like schoolwork or exercise. We’re having a lovely meal, let’s drop the topic.”

“You have two essays you’ve yet to turn in.”

“...Um-”

“You’re aware that your Mistcord* status is public and shows you play Mortus Behind* for hours on end every night?”

“Well-”

Yuu spoke up, looking over as Deuce went back for a third helping of mac and cheese, “Slow down there, Deuce. Leave some for the rest of us.”

The spade soldier blushed, stopping from getting a second scoop before passing the dish over to Ace, “Sorry. It’s just really good, how many cheeses did you use in this?”

“Four. I call it Mac n Coma for a reason.”

“...You call it what?”

Epel hummed, biting into a deviled egg topped with a piece of ham, “Yur deviled eggs are really good, Deuce! Ah’ve never had them with chili powder before.”

Deuce smiled, “Thanks! My mom always made them with chili powder instead of cayenne. Cater confused me so much when I was making them…”

Taking another two eggs, Epel started to load his plate up again, making sure to refill his glass of apple juice, “This was a great idea. Ah’ve been meaning to get y'all together. Plus, Ah get ta really chow down without Vil bothering me about manners.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, watching Epel pile his plate high, “Eating is important, but you’re kind of…eating a lot. You know we can take leftovers back with us right?”

Ace looked from the side of his eyes, watching Ruggie eat without so much as stopping to breathe, “I mean, if there’s anything left…”

Epel had patted a hand on his stomach, “Well, you know. Eatin’ for two and all.”

Jack hacked and choked, an aborted spit take going down his windpipe. Sebek had dropped his fork onto his plate, looking at Epel with wide and terrified eyes, while Deuce seemed to buffer.

Ace sputtered, his half-chewed food falling out of his mouth, “You’re what!?”

“Oh, it ain’ yours.”

“Thank the Seven…”

Deuce held his head in his hands, staring at the table, “My mom is gonna kill me…”

“It ain’ yurs neither, Deuce. It’s Sebek or Jack’s but Ah’m not sure which…”

Jack still looked horrified, hitting his chest to clear his airway, “E-either way. I’ll step up to be there for you and the baby…”

“...” Sebek glares at Jack, “Why do you assume I wouldn’t be stepping up as the child’s father?”

“Why do you assume you’re the father?”

Slowly, Jack and Sebek’s tension escalated into an argument, the two larger freshmen moving to stand from their chairs or just leap across the table at each other. Both loudly proclaiming they’d be a proper provider for Epel and the child, unknowingly insinuating the other would not be.

While the two of them bickered back and forth, Yuu slipped Epel a twenty note bill under the table.

Sam finished off his second plate, looking around the the table. His task wasn't truly something he had to do, it was more of a get out of jail card for when the table was too rowdy for him. With two separate conversations at each end of the table dealing with possible pregnancies, a debate on if the production of corn counted as the stalk/stock market, and Draconia slowly coming to terms with the idea of manslaughter Sam decided he needed a little air.

He elbowed Crewel, stopping the wine drunk man from verbally dragging his students through the trenches, “I'm gonna go for a walk, you wanna come with?”

“To what? Have sex?”

“...” Sam shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, I was going to just…walk but we'll see how we feel afterwards?”

“...Yeah, ok.”

Floyd perks up, “Ah! Wait, shrimpy told me what your job was. I wanna come too!”

Lilia smiled, finally free from Crewel's judgemental glare, “Oh, a walk? May we join you? I even have my own…walk enhancers.”

Sam shrugged again, already standing from his seat, “Might as well.”

Their small group was barely noticed leaving, only Riddle and Silver taking account. Riddle raised an eyebrow, watching them walk out of the dining room without a goodbye.

“Where do you suppose they're going?”

Silver took the time to grab the cranberry sauce from Crewel's table space, “A walk. They should be back in about ten or fifteen minutes…”

“Why in the Seven would they go for a mid-meal walk? Once they were done eating I could understand, but Floyd's barely touched his second plate…”

“...” Silver looked over to Riddle, brows creased in confusion, “Riddle, They're going to do drugs. That's what taking a ‘walk’ means.”

The gasp Riddle gave was small but clearly horrified.

Dinner had ended, while a handful returned to their dorms (Idia of course, leaving the second Cater asked if he was ready to go, and Vil who finished his plate and dragged Rook out with him) most had decided to stick around Ramshackle.

The only reason he had stayed was the fact he did not have his phone for some reason. He tried to retrace his steps, checking around the now empty dinner table he found nothing but the nearly empty serving platters all covered again. The stray fairy watching him from little spaces, waiting for him to leave so they could pick at the food left improperly covered.

He checked the kitchen, finding only Crewel and Trein standing at the Island both nursing glasses of wine. Pouting, seated at the smaller dining table across from Vargas was Crowley. The headmaster begrudgingly eating from a plate, no doubt cursing Yuu under his breath for not actually inviting him to their massive friends and family dinner.

“Apologies for interrupting, professors. But have any of you seen my phone? White case with a rose popstand on the back?”

While most of the teachers shook their heads, Varga hummed before snapping his fingers, “The lounge! I think one of the kids had it.”

“Oh no…”

Walking into the lounge, Riddle had to hold in a snicker. Yuu had told him their family recipe for macaroni and cheese was known as ‘Mac n Coma’ and he could see why. Leona was passed out on the couch, snoring loudly face down in the cushions. Wedged between the back of the couch and Leona’s side was Ruggie. The hyena silent but sleeping just as hard with an arm draped over the back of Leona’s head.

The children were asleep too, each of them piled on top of Leona and Ruggie in a mass of limbs. Jack’s twin siblings squishing Cheka between them, the grey tipped twin sleepily gnawing on the lion cub’s tail. Deuce was also in the lounge, unfortunately unable to reach a couch or chair as he slept on the floor using a throw pillow as a blanket.

Looking around, he couldn’t see his phone anywhere. Groaning under his breath, he walked out to the back and to the patio. He quickly walked by Trey and Jade, the third-year quietly trying to calm his boyfriend who kept glaring at him. Walking around the garden, he finally saw his familiar white case.

The downside was that it was in Yuu’s hands, Floyd squished tight beside her in the pillow filled hammock swing. The two were whispering to themselves, giggling and pointing at the screen. 

He stood in front of them, hands on his hips and already tapping his foot in annoyance, “I would like my phone back, if you two delinquients wouldn’t mind.”

Floyd looked up, his eyes still rimmed in red from his ‘walk’ earlier, “In a minute, Goldfishie~. We gotta do something real fast.”

“What could you two possibly need my phone for?”

Yuu giggled, tapping on the phone and moving to place it against their ear, “We’re callin' your mom and seeing who can make her say a slur fastest.” “GIVE ME MY PHONE THIS INSTANT!”

*Twist version of Discord

*Twist version of Left 4 Dead

[que3rduckling]

My Pitch for Absolute Robin

For one, I think it is important for the Robin in this universe to be Dick Grayson. I have seen someone on TikTok saying it should be Stephanie Brown and while I do agree with many of the points they made and I do believe that that would make an interesting story, I believe that Dick being the first Robin and ergo Batman’s first sidekick is very important to his character. (As well as me being a huge Dick Grayson fan who would LOVE to see him in it)

I want the Absolute Robin to have the same approach to him as the other superhero’s so far, that being taking away some key aspect of the character. For Dick, I think the key aspect of his character that should be taken away is Haley’s Circus. I want this Dick to have never grown up in a Circus and never was an acrobat. Instead I want him to have been raised to something of the likes of an assassin. While I do not know if Snyder will or should introduce the Court of Owls into the current story he is telling with Absolute Batman, but I do believe that Dick should have been raised to some of the like of The Gray Son. Him being this prophesied greatest assassin, being raised so that he can full-fill this prophecy.

Dick doesn’t enjoy the life he is currently entrapped in, not wanting to hurt people but instead help them, and having a lot of built up anger due to this.

Dick should also be aged up a bit. Instead of being around 9 when he becomes Robin I want him to be around 15. Also Bruce should not be adopting Robin, more so mentoring him.

Alright let me set the scene:

Batman is messing up operations for everyone in Gotham with his arrvial so Dick, a trained and prophesied assassin, is sent out and tasked with killing him. Dick does not want to but does not have much of choice and goes out to do so. He hides in the darkness, face covered by a mask to shield his identity and age, watching Batman. He waits for the perfect moment to strike and does just so. Using his agility to his advantage and dancing around Batman, striking blows all around him. You could also say he looks like Circus performer putting on a show. At some point he slips up, misses a hit or something, and Batman gets the upper hand. He slams Dick into the ground. He’s about to hit Dick with a ruthless hit when he sees that the mask covering the boys face is cracked, and a young boys scared eyes stare at him through the crack. He stops. He stares at this kid who can be no older than 15. Dick uses this moment of pause to kick up and escape.

Later as Dick is being yelled at for not completing the mission he finally decides he’s has enough. I mean if there is a man dressed up as a bat, helping and saving people, why can’t he? If I man dressed up as a Bat is able to start taking down the organizations that have caused Dick so much pain, why can’t he?He has the skills to do it. He has the anger to do it. He has the fight in him to do it.

He escapes that night. Dick uses his pre-existing knowledge of The Bat and his detective skills to figure out where he is. He emerges from the shadows, presenting himself to Batman. No mask this time. Him and Bruce stare at each other for a moment before Dick breaks the silence. Dick says how he is fed up with the organizations that are ruining this city. He wants to take revenge against the place that took away his family, his childhood, his life. He tells The Bat that he has insider knowledge of the area, how they can help each other to take them down. Dick tells him how he will do this whether or not Batman agrees, so it would be more effective if he did. All Bruce sees is another hurt kid. A kid who lost his family to the corruptness of this city, just like he did.

This city spares no one, he knows that. But maybe he can help give this kid closure. Guidance. He’s going to help this kid. He accepts the kids offer. He set some ground rules though and Dick reluctantly agrees.

Dick knows he some sort of superhero identity. One separate from the one he has been forced to use all his life.

He decides he will be called Robin, his mother’s nickname for him and one of the last things he ever heard her say before the separated from each other by assassins. He does not know if she is alive or not but if she is he hopes she’ll hear the name and know that he is still out there. He chooses to have bright yellow, green and red on his costume because he is spent to much of his life in the shadows , hiding. He is going to be seen now. He is going to be a beacon of light in the darkness that is Gotham.

——-

That is my pitch for Absolute Robin! I left the organization that trained Dick purposely vague because I never quite decided if I would want it to be a new one or be the Court of Owls. So you guys can decided which one would be better!!

Also some ideas I have that I couldn’t quite fit into main story I was telling:

- Dick lives one of Bruce’s safe houses, but a separate one from where he lives in

- Dick is still quite acrobaty Just Never being properly trained to be a circus one

- Dick was originally from outside the states but the organization that trained him forcefully separated him from his family and brought him to the states

- He never saw his parents die and hopes they are still alive but knows deep down their not. (Bc their not)

- Mary and John used to be in Haley’s Circus but left when Mary became pregnant with Dick and decided to settle down

Hope y’all liked this!! (Sorry it was so long ��😭)

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Team "In-Over-his-Head"

Series: A Wildcard is Active

-----

Word Count: 5275

Summery: Mumbo is saddled with wrangling two tiny teammates: a mischievous Grian and a bloodthirsty Skizz. When Skizz runs off by himself to get a kill, Grian is tasked with leading Mumbo on a wild goose chase to keep him distracted. It turns out to be more frustrating for Mumbo than Grian planned.

-----

“C’mon, Grian! My pal, my buddy, my amigo. Just one hint, just ooone little hint!”

Grian snickered as he ducked around Skizz. “Nope, not telling. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Skizz pouted. “I’m a red name, Grian, I need all the help you can give me.”

That was true, he did. Grian’s choice of ally ship, though he wouldn’t trade them for anyone else, were perhaps not the most invested in self preservation; but the integrity of the game would not be sacrificed just because Skizz and Mumbo gave him puppy eyes.

“And that’s why we ought to plan! Up to the meeting tower, come on.”

Grian grinned with bubbling anticipation as they scaled the bridges up to the precariously placed meeting tower and took their seats.

Mumbo chuckled at him. “You see? You’ve got that grin on your face that I don’t like. It makes me a bit nervous, I’ll be honest.”

He smiled wider. “What? I’m not grinning! I’m perfectly serious and focused on getting your lives back this session.” They would be doing nothing of the sort, he was absolutely certain. 

“Right, right. Game faces.” Skizz said, “I was thinking we get a hit on Gem or Joel, or maybe even…” He glanced over his shoulder for anyone who might’ve been listening. “Lizzie’s on the table, too. They’re all on six, it’ll be no skin off their nose, y’know?”

Mumbo scrunched up his nose. “I’m not so sure I want to tangle with Gem. That’s not how I’d like to go down to red, thanks.”

The two of them kept talking, mulling over various methods and targets, but Grian could only focus on the time. Five minutes till. Four. Three. Two.

Skizz poked him in the side of the head. “G? Are you even paying attention, dude? We need all hands on deck here!” 

He held up his communicator with a smile. “Just watching the time. Whatever happens, stay in your seat, grab onto something and don’t let go in five… four…”

“Woah, what— okay! Whatever you say!” Skizz grabbed onto the sides of his chair and Mumbo hastily followed.

“Three, two…” The colourful ellipses appeared in his minds eye, “One…”

A Wildcard is Active.

He fastened his communicator back on his hip and leaned back in his chair, watching as Mumbo and Skizz sat frozen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. After a long moment of silence, Skizz hesitantly relaxed and looked around.

“…You messin’ with us, G? ‘Cause nothing’s happening on my end.”

“You’ll see. Just give it a minute.” He pulled two blocks out of his inventory and placed them on either side of his chair for stability and rested his arms on them.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go back down. Suddenly I don’t feel safe up here.” Skizz turned to walk back across the bridge to the mountain when Grian felt the buzzing in his chest. The first thought in his mind was oh dear, here we go, and the second was that he knew what was about to happen, and if they didn’t act now Skizz was about to be out of the series right then. 

He shot upright in his chair but stayed firmly put. “Mumbo! Mumbo grab him, grab him now!”

Mumbo scrambled to snag Skizz by the arm and yank him back to the platform just as the smoke appeared and he crumpled to the ground.

“Woah, G, what’s goin’ on, man!?” Skizz stared wide-eyed at his hands, which were giving off growing streams of purple smoke.

Mumbo wasn’t smoking, and Grian couldn’t help but start laughing even as his own body started to feel like jelly. “Oh Mumbo Jumbulio, you’re about to have a very fun session.”

“Wha— Grian you can’t just—!” Mumbo stammered, trying to hold Skizz upright, “What does that mean!? What’s going on?”

The purple smoke enveloped the platform, and he was out like a light. 

-

He was roused again from his brief nap by the sound of Mumbo’s panicked blubbering. He couldn’t quite bring himself to open his eyes right away, breathing deeply through the heavy drowsiness and fading buzzing under his skin. The sleepy feeling in his arms and legs was slowly starting to go away just like it had during the tests, and his body felt much lighter. So far so good, everything’s in order. His wings twitched experimentally, squished slightly by the back of the chair, and soft fledgling feathers tickled the back of his neck. Yep, definitely working.

“Grian, what on earth is this!?” Mumbo borderline squealed, and he finally blinked open his eyes. Mumbo’s face was white with shock and he was doing his best to cradle an equally bleary-looking and tiny Skizz in his arms. He was maybe five? Possibly four.

“You’re so loud…” He complained, “Jus’ gimme a minute to be sleepy.”

Mumbo spluttered. “No! I absolutely will not do that. Explain yourself right now!”

“You didn’t go through that transformation, I don’ wanna hear it.” He said calmly, pushing himself up from where he was slumped in the chair and stretching out his new body.

Skizz was more awake now, looking down at himself, then Mumbo, then Grian and back again, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates the longer he looked. “G, this is…”

“Terrible!” Mumbo exclaimed.

“Dope!” Skizz cheered, “D’you know how many kills I can get like this? I can fit into all sorts of little nooks and crannies, it’s like Sub-One Club all over again! Well, not you, Mumbo.”

“See? That’s the spirit.” Grian said, much to Mumbo’s befuddlement.

“I— You two— So, w-wait, how does this one work exactly?” Mumbo had the funniest look on his face as he tried to wrap his head around it all, and Grian giggled at him. Apparently Mumbo didn’t see the same humour in it as he did.

“Well, have a see!” He chirped, handing him a spyglass. Mumbo carefully let Skizz out of his arms, making an I’m watching you, stay right there gesture like he was a puppy before looking out over the server.

“Oh dear, oh my…” He turned back to them. “Does every team only have one adult? Is that it?”

“Eh, close enough. It’s random, so you’ve got a 50/50 chance of staying the same,” He pointed at Mumbo, “or being kiddy-fied. Skizz got real unlucky.”

Skizz scrunched up his face. “An’ why’s that now?”

“‘Cause you got real small. You can be a bigger kid or super tiny, and you got one of the tiniest.” He said matter-of-factly. Or, as much as he could. Even after doing a bunch of tests he could never get used to how silly his voice sounded in the kid form.

“Well, if I’m one of the tiniest, you gotta be, too!” Skizz pointed out, “You’re like the same as me!”

He was hoping to get away without anyone pointing that out, but alas. He knew from the moment he got his bearings that he had landed somewhere on the smaller end of the scale. He was hoping for bigger, but he could still cause plenty of mischief like this. “Yeah, but I’m just a smidge older, so I’m still better than you.”

“What!? You are not!”

“Am too, I tested it, remember? I’m seven, an’ you’re like five! I’m way bigger.”

“No you’re not.” Mumbo said, having finally at least slightly pulled himself together, and Grian pouted at him. Betrayal. “Mate, you’re six at most, maybe even five. Oh gods, you’re six, at most...” He muttered.

Grian patted him consolingly on the knee. “There there, Mumbo. An’ I’m not five! Avians are jus’ smaller bioj— bio— agh! Bi-o-lo-gi-cally.”

Mumbo dragged his hands down his face. “This is so strange… Right, so does that mean I’m like… Your parent or something? I don’t have to watch after you guys now, do I?”

Grian shrugged and hopped off his chair. “Not if you don’t want to. You’ll just be leaving two kids defenceless and all alone in the world, but I can’t force you to do anything.”

“Hey, I ain’t defenceless!” Skizz said, but Mumbo just shook his head.

“No, Grian’s right. I can’t- You two probably shouldn’t be left alone. Especially not Skizz, I mean— what if you die? I can’t have that on my shoulders.” He looked at them seriously, and Grian had to try his hardest not to snicker. “You know what? I’m gonna be the best darn parent on this server, just you watch. Come along now, it’s not safe up here.” He ushered them back over the bridge, pushing them as far into the safety of the middle as possible.

Skizz groaned. “Nice goin’ G.” He grumbled.

Grian just laughed.

-

“How am I s‘posed to get a kill with you hoverin’ over me?” Skizz complained, “No offence, but I gotta go this one alone.”

Mumbo waved him off, putting plates of toast and bacon down onto a makeshift table. “We can talk about that right after a bit of breakfast, how about that? We’ve got a lot more to think about than I thought this session.”

Grian grimaced at the bacon on his plate. Right. It had been an unfortunate few hours the day he had discovered during testing that indeed all of his biology returned to his child self after the transformation. Which meant regaining the digestive system of a young avian, which meant being unable to properly digest meat. He cringed at the memory of that tummy ache.

“What’s wrong, Grian?” Mumbo asked.

“I can’t eat the bacon ‘cause I’m a small bird now...” He said sadly, “Oh, that’s the worst thing about this whole wildcard.”

“More like the best! Yoink.” Skizz reached over and snatched the bacon off his plate and onto his own.

Mumbo frowned. “Oh. Do you want me to find you something else? Do you like… uh… seeds..?” 

The question was asked so hesitantly yet so genuinely that Grian had to pause for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“L-Look, I don’t know, okay!?” 

“Ha ha ha— seeds! Seeds, Skizz! Hee-hee-hee!” It took him a solid minute to calm down, with the mental image of shoving a handful of straight wheat seeds into his mouth causing him to break down again every time he managed to get a grip.

Mumbo’s face was as red as an apple. “Yes, yes, I get it, no seeds. It’s really not that funny, is it?”

He wiped a tear from his eye and finally took a bite of his toast when he was sure he wouldn’t choke. “It really is… I’m just a veg-e-tar-ian, Mumbo, I’m not eating straight seeds.”

“Alright then, I’ll see if we have something else you can eat. You’re not going to be full on just toast.” He got up and began rooting around through their chests. Grian watched, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“He became a mum so fast, didn’t he?”

Skizz rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Listen, G,” He dropped to a whisper and Grian’s ears perked up. Whispers were the universal language of scheming. “I gotta get a kill and Mumbo’s never gonna let me go on my own. I need you to do something for me.”

“I’m listening…”

“I need you to keep ‘im distracted for me. Lead ‘im on a wild goose chase when he comes lookin’ for me, and don’t tell him where I’m goin’, got it?”

And oh boy did he like the sound of that idea. He looked over at Mumbo, who was still buried inside their chest monster, and nodded. “Now’s your chance to escape! Go, I won’t say a word.”

“You’re the best, G. I’ll be back with a green name.” Skizz hopped down from his chair and slunk away, making a shh gesture just before ducking out of sight and breaking into a sprint. Grian smirked to himself.

Mumbo returned to the table and Grian jolted back into a ‘I wasn’t doing anything suspicious’ pose. “So we didn’t have much. I’ve got you some carrots and glow berries, but— wait, where’s Skizz?”

Grian plucked the bundle of glowberries from Mumbo’s hand and popped one into his mouth.

“Grian? Where did Skizz go?”

He shrugged. It was technically the truth, he didn’t know where Skizz was planning to go.

Mumbo made an exasperated noise and ran his hand through his hair. “Already? I’ve lost one already! Grian, you must’ve seen which way he went. It’s not safe for him out there!”

“Mm, he went tha’ way, towards the Tuff Guys.” He lied through a mouthful of berries. He forgot how good these tasted. 

“Alright, well, you can eat these on the way. We’ve got to find him quickly, before he does something too rash. Oh who am I kidding? I’m sure he already has! Come on, up, up.”

“Can’t I just finish my breakfast?”

“Nope. Let’s go, show me exactly where he’s gone.”

-

Mumbo frowned. “And you’re absolutely certain he went this way?” 

“Mhm, definitely!”

Now, call him crazy, but Mumbo got the distinct feeling that Grian was perhaps lying to him. For being so certain that Skizz had run off to the Tuff Guys not long ago, their base was very obviously deserted. He knew this because Grian had insisted on searching the entire place from top to bottom, snooping behind every chest and scouring every nook and cranny that a five year old could possibly be hiding in. Now they were at Ren and Martyn’s base after Grian swore up and down that he saw a “very Skizz-shaped blob” running through the forest nearby.

“Ren, Martyn! Are you home?” Grian called. 

He had to admit, it was rather endearing to see Grian hopping about on his toes to get some height on the wall Mumbo was able to peer over with ease. Inside the walls he watched Ren haul Martyn up by the scruff of his shirt and away from where he had presumably been trying wrestling with their wolves just seconds before. As quickly as things had gone sideways with his adventure into parenthood, Mumbo supposed there were some small graces to be thankful for. Like not being forced to babysit Martyn.

“Ah, is that a little Grian I hear?” Ren said, “Hey, stop wiggling you— Come on in, dude!”

“Mumbo’s here, too!” Grian spun around and reached his arms up, making grabby hands at the air. “Gimme a boost.” 

Mumbo raised an eyebrow at him. He was most definitely capable of climbing up himself, but what could it hurt to humour him? “Uh huh. Is that we ask now?”

“Please.”

“Fine.” 

Grian’s little wings flapped as he hoisted him up and onto the wall, and Mumbo climbed over after him.

Ren flipped Martyn around so he was holding him like a bundle of planks under one arm and greeted them with a smile and a wave. “Good morning, Mumbo! What brings you two to our humble abode? I see you’re missing one, where did ol’ Skizzleman run off to?”

Mumbo watched as Martyn wriggled around uselessly in Ren’s grip. “Well, you see, that’s actually why we’re here. Skizz has run off by himself and we’re desperately trying to find him before he gets himself killed. Grian said he may have come by here, have you seen him?”

“Oh, I see. You’ve got a runaway, have you? Hey-!” Martyn started kicking, trying to clip Ren’s back with his shoes. “Fine, fine! You can go down. Go play with Grian or something, just no more wolf-wrestling!” 

Martyn turned to stick his tongue out at them as he and Grian ran off to their towers.

Ren sighed. “He really is a handful.”

Mumbo couldn’t agree more. “Don’t I know it. It’s not even been half a day!”

“So, like I was saying, I don’t think we’ve seen Skizzly around here. I could’ve missed him though, I’ve been trying to wrangle Martyn for the past hour. He’s just got so much energy.”

He chuckled. “I did see that. Was that what the wolf-wrestling was about?”

“I told him to find something to burn off some stink and apparently that translated into ‘go fight the dogs, Martyn!’. I swear, I don’t know if it’s a kid thing or just a Martyn thing.”

“Could be both, to be fair.”

Their chit chat was interrupted by a high-pitched whoop! from above their heads, and Mumbo watched in horror as Grian, lead tied around his waist, jumped from the balcony of Martyn’s sky base and dangled mid-air. Martyn sat crouched over the ledge, tying the other end of the rope to a fencepost in as many knots as possible with the most devious grin he had ever seen on a child.

Ren yelped. “Martyn!”

Mumbo felt faint. “Grian!”

Grian cheered as he swung himself back and forth, flapping his wings. “Look Mumbo, I’m flying! Wheeee!”

“Oh my gods, Grian, get down from there!” He almost couldn’t watch. At any moment the lead could slip off his tiny body or the rope would snap and Grian would plummet to his death.

“I can’t hear youuuu!”

“Martyn Littlewood you let Grian down from there this instant!” Ren shouted. Martyn looked conflicted for a moment, but Grian put a stop to that quickly.

“Never surr-en-der, Martyn! He’s not the boss of us!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that. I’m coming up there!” Ren marched over and began climbing the ladder, and then everyone was panicking.

“Uh, Grian? He might be the boss of us, what do I do!?” Martyn fretted. Where could Mumbo get some of those intimidation skills?

Grian flailed precariously and Mumbo flinched. “Uh— uh— I dunno! Wait, yes I do! Lemme down! Cut the lead!”

“What!?” Martyn and Mumbo yelled in unison.

“Martyn, don’t you dare!” Mumbo pointed as threateningly as he could from the ground. He couldn’t go up after them in case, admins forbid, Grian took a fall, so he could only watch.

Ren was closing in on them, and right as he got his head up the top of the ladder, Martyn made his decision and cut the rope. Mumbo’s stomach dropped.

“Mumbo, catch me!” 

And thank goodness, all of the reflexes Mumbo possessed in his entire body went into throwing down a bucket of water and diving into it to catch Grian just before he hit the ground. His suit was soaked through, his heart was beating like like a hummingbird, and he felt slightly dizzy, but Grian sat safely in his arms, barely a drop of water on him and cheering like he’d just had the time of his life.

“Yeah! Again, Mumbo, again!”

He let out a deep, shaky breath. “No. Never again. We’re leaving.” 

Grian flopped in his arms like a bag of sand. “Awwww…”

He looked up the tower, where Ren had a pouting Martyn by the shirt yet again. “Thank you for the information, Ren, but we’ll be on our way now.”

“Alright. Good luck, dude!”

He was certainly going to need it. 

From there, every single location Grian led them was turned out to be more chaos than the last. With each tizzy Grian got himself into, each hour of daylight wasted, the more frustrated Mumbo became. He was certain now that Grian was messing with him, leading him on some wild goose chase with no real end in mind. First it was dangling from Martyn’s tower; then it was letting out Gem and Joel’s farm animals where Mumbo not only had to deal with the squabbling of three children, but also put all of the animals back because he was the only one big enough to do so; then it was running off and playing hide-and-seek in a cave and forcing him to come find him; and then he tried to play chicken with the Four G’s explosive-trapped wheat fields. Now it was nearing evening, they had nearly toured half the server, and Skizz was nowhere to be seen. He had been kicked by a horse, shot by a skeleton twice in the caves, listened to tantrums, and nearly had at least three heart attacks. To say he was getting fed up would be an understatement.

And Grian appeared to be none the wiser to Mumbo’s irritation. In fact, he seemed hell-bent on making everything worse. It was obvious the wildcard was affecting Grian’s mind to an extent, but at this point he had to have known better. That was the most infuriating part of it all. He knew. 

Grian abruptly stopped walking in front of him and he bumped into him. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, I’m very fragile, y’know.” 

Mumbo clenched his jaw.

“Now that I think about it, I uh… I’m pretty sure I saw Skizz coming this way instead. Maybe BigB’s seen him.“

“And you’re sure? Because Grian, I’m going to be very upset if you’ve been lying to me this whole time and I’ve walked around the server for nothing.” 

Grian’s eyes flickered down to his communicator and back, then he flashed a big grin. “Yep!”

So into the dark oak forest they went. Even though it was pointless, Mumbo called out Skizz’s name as they walked to no response.

“Alright, Grian. I don’t know what-“ He turned around and Grian was nowhere to be seen. Again. “Oh for Pete’s sake! Grian, get back here!”

A familiar squeaky voice called back to him.

“Oh no! Zombies! Whatever shall I do!?”

He took a deep breath through his nose and stormed in the direction of Grian’s voice, sword drawn. Only when he found the clearing, there was just Grian, two zombie spawn eggs in his hands.

“Grian, don’t you dare—“

Two zombies were suddenly lunging at him, and while he was able to take them both down without much trouble, one did manage to get a hit on him. 

Grian giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world. “I got you!”

He was so distracted that he didn’t see the creeper crawling out of the brush towards him. Mumbo lurched forward and was just barely able to put his shield up in time to protect them from the blast. Grian stared at the creeper hole for a moment, eyes wide, and chuckled nervously.

“Heh, thanks for the save...”

Mumbo’s grip clenched around his shield. “Right, that’s enough of this forest.” He took Grian by the arm and half-dragged him back out into the open. Now, on top of everything, he was covered in dirt from head to toe.

Grian ruffled his feathers and brushed off the few specks of dirt he managed to get on him. “W-Well, Skizz clearly wasn’t in there. I think next—“

“No! No more, enough!”

Grian froze.

“What you don’t seem to understand is that I actually care about the wellbeing of this team! I’ve been trying to find Skizz to keep him safe, and instead I’ve been trying to save you from trying to kill yourself on purpose all day! Wasn’t it your idea in the first place for me to look after you!? What is it you want from me here, exactly?” 

And he got nothing. Grian didn’t have a single thing to say for himself.

“Forget it. We’re going home. Hopefully Skizz has found his way back, because I’m done for today. Let’s go.”

-

Grian’s eyes were glued to his shoes as they walked silently through the field.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be causing harmless trouble and Mumbo was meant to be pulling his hair out like they always did, but now Mumbo was angry at him. Genuinely angry. The thought hurt more than it should have, and tears were burning in his eyes against his will. He tried to remind himself that it was just the wildcard talking. He wasn’t actually meant to be so upset about all this, but he was. He didn’t want Mumbo to be angry with him, he was just trying to have fun. He was just trying to help Skizz, but now he’d made Mumbo hate him.

He glanced up hesitantly. Mumbo’s back was to him, but he could still tell how angry he was. He could hear the slow, forced breaths he was taking, he could see the way his hands were clenched around his sword and shield, he could feel it. 

Mumbo’s angry with you. He’s so angry with you. Why didn’t you stop? Would Skizz have been mad at you if you stopped? Was someone going to be mad at you no matter what you did?

The more he thought, the harder it became to keep the tears in. His throat ached, his eyes hurt, and his nose was getting plugged. He didn’t want to sniffle in case Mumbo heard him, but it was getting hard to breathe.

Finally, without him really noticing when, they made it home. 

“I’m going to bed early tonight.” Mumbo said, not turning around, “Keep out of trouble, alright? If Skizz comes back… I don’t know, at this point. Tell him to go to bed.”

And he was about to leave. He was about to go to bed and spare Grian from the humiliation of crying in front of him, but then the pressure grew too much, and his throat hurt too badly, and he really couldn’t breathe. He sniffled, and Mumbo turned around.

“Grian? Are you… crying?”

No, go to bed please, please go away. “N-No. It’s jus’ the wildcard acting up, I’m not-“ His voice broke. “I-I’m not—“

Mumbo frowned, concerned because of course he was. “Why are you crying?”

There wasn’t a reason, not really. He’d gotten yelled at, rightfully so, and now his stupid brain was making him cry. But when he tried to say that, nothing came out. Everything he was feeling felt like it had been multiplied by a hundred, suffocating reasonable Adult Grian who would have just apologized and moved along.

He hiccuped and scrubbed at his eyes as hard as he could with his sleeves like he might be able to make Mumbo un-see. Go away tears, go away. “Thi-is is so st—stupid, m’sorry.”

Mumbo knelt down in front of him. He looked guilty, like he was the onewho had to be sorry for today. “Is it… because I snapped at you?” 

He couldn’t bring himself to nod, but his silence gave it away. Tears finally began to slip down his cheeks and shame joined the cloud of emotions swirling around in his head.He knew needed to calm down, apologize properly, his breath was too hiccup-y and his body felt like he was going to explode.

“Would, maybe…” Mumbo opened his arms, “Would a hug help?”

He swallowed. It would. It would help so much, but he didn’t move. Mumbo shouldn’t be comforting him when he was the one who was bad all day. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“Alright, well, my arms are getting tired now, so I’m just going to hug you, and you push me off if that’s not cool. How about that?” Mumbo wrapped his arms around him, and like a switch flipped Grian flung his arms around his neck, squeezing tight.

“M’sorry, m’really s-so—rry, I’m being dumb.”

“I don’t think you’re being dumb. You’re a kid— well, sort of, and being yelled at would freak everyone out. Even me, and I’m not in the body of a child.” He chuckled lightly, and why did Mumbo have to be so good at making him feel better? That wasn’t fair! He didn’t deserve it at all, he didn’t—

“What was that, Grian?”

“I-I said I don’ d-deserve this!” He cried, “I was bei-ng bad a-all day and now you’re tryin’ to make me feel better! T-That’s not how it’s s’posed to work! You’re s’posed to be mad at me!”

Was this a tantrum? Oh gods. He was trying to apologize and he was only making it worse.

Mumbo was quiet for a long moment, thinking probably. About what? How silly Grian was being? Or worse, about how he was pretending not to be angry for his sake?

“How about this,” He finally said, “You let me worry about what I should and shouldn’t be mad about, hm? And I’ve worried on it, and I say that I’m not angry anymore.”

No. That wasn’t what he wanted. Sure, a small part of him was cheering with joy that Mumbo wasn’t angry with him anymore, but the other part only got more upset. “O-Only ‘cause I’m crying…” He mumbled bitterly.

“Hey now, you’re not listening to me. I said I’m not angry anymore, I didn’t say why, did I?”

And no, Grian supposed he didn’t. He drew in his first proper breath in a while. “Then why aren’t you? ‘Cause you should be.”

Mumbo slowly eased them out of the hug and childishly, Grian wanted it back. “Well, because I’ve had time to calm down and think about it, just like you have.” Mumbo took a big deep breath, and motioned for him to do one too. “See? I also figured there was probably a reason you were acting that way. Am I right?”

Grian nodded. He supposed now was a good a time as any to give up the ghost. “Uhm… This morning, S-Skizz asked me to keep you busy s-so he could go get a kill in secret.” He admitted, “It wasn’t s’posed to go all day, but he never got a kill so I just kept going. I’m really sowwy, Mumbo.”

Wait.

Mumbo snorted, and Grian’s cheeks just about burst into flames. “Sorry! I meant sorry!” He hid his face in his hands, “Oh my gosh I hate this. Whose idea was this!?”

“Yours, mate.” Mumbo chuckled, standing and ruffling his hair. “Now come on, I wasn’t kidding about being knackered. It’s bedtime, for both of us.”

On cue, the ten minutes of crying finally settled over him, and he yawned. “Fine by me.” 

Instinctively he started following Mumbo up to the stair landing where he kept his bed, and the fact that he had his own across the chasm completely skipped his mind.

…Until Mumbo pointed it out. 

“Oh, coming to bed with me, are we?” 

Goodness gracious what was wrong with him? “R-Right! Sorry, heh, I’ll—“

“You can sleep here if you want. I’d say there’s enough room for two on this bed, with how tiny you are.”

“Well now, that’s just disre— dis- oh forget it. Mean.”

“Oh I know, I’m so cruel to you, Grian. Come on, hop up.” He held up the covers for Grian to climb underneath.

It was incredibly undignified, just how much he had to kick his feet and flap his wings to haul himself up onto the mattress, but he made it. He yawned again. Definitely time for bed.

Mumbo tucked them in soundly, and after one last quick check for mobs, laid down for the night.

“Goodnight, Grian.”

“G’night, Mumbo.”

-

Grian woke up what felt like only minutes later to the bed dipping. It was pitch black out, but the soft glow of Skizz’s halo lit up his face as he crawled up beside them. His eyes were still red.

“Mm... Skizz?”

“Hey G-man. Thanks for keepin’ Mumbo off my tail today. How’d it go?”

“All that, and you didn’t even get a kill?” He mumbled blearily, mostly to himself.

“Hey, rude. But listen, I have a plan, I just need some more time. D’ya think you can cover for me tomorr—“

Grian blinked at him once, twice, then rolled over and buried himself back under the blankets. “No way. Never again, Skizz. Never again.”

[annaphoenix1994]

Aftershock

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

A swift knock on General Herschel Shepherd's oak door disturbed him of his duties. With an irritated and curious "Come in!", Shepherd was pleased to see Station Chief Kate Laswell. Shepherd knew she meant business when she came to speak with someone one-on-one, but the news he was prepared to hear was not what he was in the mood for. "Laswell." He greeted, setting his pen aside.

"General Shepherd." She nodded, presenting herself in a respectful stature.

"Boy, do I know that look," He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Are we at war?"

"You would be the first to know, sir."

"Damn right I would. Now talk to me."

She sighed, nodding before presenting her digital tablet to him, zooming in on an artificial map. "We have a hit on Ghorbrani's second in command."

Shepherd chuckled in disbelief, taking the tablet in his hands. "Hassan Zyani. Quds Force Major."

"He's taken up the mantle for Iran."

"Supplying terrorists."

"Money, weapons, intel."

"Well, he's ambitious."

"He's dangerous, sir. He wants retaliation for the Ghorbrani strike. He's planning something."

"We can't take him in Iran."

Laswell leaned over his desk, using her index finger to open a new page on her tablet. "He's not in Iran, sir. He's on the ground in Al Mazrah."

"What the hell is he doing in Al Mazrah?" Shepherd scoffed.

"There is only one way to find out, sir."

"Well, let's get him."

"When?"

"What time is it now?" Shepherd cocked a brow as if he were challenging her.

"Who do we send?"  

»»-------¤-------««

Are you kidding me? I'm helping take out a hit on a wanted terrorist and having to babysit, too?

I had been on holiday for the last seven months, pushing my body to its limits while training as I was a highly respected Lieutenant on my Task Force, which consisted of three other men: Captain Price, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish, and only one managed to really get under my skin. 

I sighed at the familiar name, knowing that this was definitely going to be an interesting mission. Soap always found ways to get under my skin, taking advantage of the fact that he had the backbone to actually aggravate me, knowing I wouldn't do much about it because I let it go through one ear and out the other. The only thing I could do was shoot him a death glare and spew hateful comments, but neither seemed to faze him, like he was pleased with how well he could piss me off. I haven't seen Soap since 2020 when we and Captain Price were assigned with Shepherd to carry out a hit on one of our most valued targets: Vladimir Makarov, which ended up being a bust. We caught him, but Soap lost his composure and nearly shot him in the helo after our target misled us.

Fortunately for Makarov, he got to live to see another day, but that still wasn't good enough. The Russian rat could eat shit for all I cared, and I wish that Soap would've pulled that trigger, regardless of Price's command to stand down.

Maybe one day.

Soap jumped down from the back of the truck, smiling and nodding at me before approaching me, "Let's get ourselves a win, yeah, L.T.?" He questioned, playfully fist-bumping my shoulder. "I'll save you a seat, sir."

Of course, we'll get a win, Soap. We always bloody do, at least when I'm a part of it.

"Fucking hell." I sighed, watching him walk away through my tired eyes. I hadn't slept in almost twenty hours, and it was starting to take its toll on me if I didn't make myself move.

Plenty, but it'll do me no good to tell you about it. 

»»-------¤-------««

»»-------¤-------««

I had the pleasure of leading Bravo Team while Alpha Team kept close by. We cleared a structure completely before taking on heavy enemy fire, causing one of our cover-fire helos to go down, resulting in unfortunate casualties. There were many questions as to if we were to move ahead and secure the crash site, but I made it clear that if we did that, we were compromising ourselves, so we needed to push forward and clear the closest buildings before securing the crash site.

There were more snipers than I was expecting, but Soap and a Marine did me proud by taking out the snipers effortlessly as me and the other men on the ground could proceed with clearing the next building. Hassan was everywhere – like a God to these ignorant bastards. It was disgusting how someone could blindly lead a band of loyal followers.

Eventually, all enemies were neutralized. All except for one – Hassan himself, and I was sure he got away when we secured the crash site. Soap questioned if we shouldn't have helped the downed helo in order to catch our target, but I made a stern statement that all actions have consequences, and this was a prime example.

We secured a perimeter around the complex to make a last-minute attempt to search for Hassan as all of us didn't want to go back empty-handed. When a Marine used a heartbeat sensor, he informed us that there was movement detected in what looked like a vacant warehouse. "L.T., that warehouse has a lot of windows on the top floor. Broken glass, too."

"Yeah, that's where a lot of enemy fire was coming from." I shrugged.

"Detecting over a dozen heartbeats in there, sir," A Marine informed me, flashing the screen of his heartbeat sensor at me. "I'm willing to bet he's in there."

"Maybe not. Regardless, we need to neutralize it. Might be something worth finding. Spread out. I'll take point."

"I'll be right behind you, L.T." Soap said.

"Keep up, Soap."

"I always try to, sir."

The warehouse erupted with enemy fire when we forced entry, most of the bastards wearing armor and relying on frags and flashbangs. They were definitely protecting something, and I was going to find out what it was. I was a man on a mission, and nothing was stopping me. These bastards couldn't even come close to the force that I was.

"Ghost! All clear!" Soap shouted from his cover position.

"It's not clear until I can confirm, Sergeant," I grumbled, moving up and taking cover against a shipping container. "Sergeant Miller, ensure the upper level is clear."

"Yes, sir. My sensor isn't detecting any more heartbeats. Brooks, watch my six."

"On it."

"Hopkins, keep that door secure."

"There's no movement up here, sir!" Miller shouted from the upper level as me and the rest of the Marines moved up to secure a position near the shipping container. It was suspicious that a single shipping container was laying in the middle of the warehouse, a flat trailer and few crates nearby. What was in this thing?

"What the fuck is this?" Soap grumbled, opening the door to see a discharge station – the same one I had seen prior to when I was assigned to Al Mazrah with General Shepherd and his PMC group to conduct a missile strike on General Ghorbrani seven months prior to this. Why do they have something like this?

"It's all in English!" I scoffed in disbelief, stepping in to view the discharge station closer, confirming my suspicion.

"Al-Qatala's got some serious shit in here." Miller commented, keeping his eye on the rear entry point of the warehouse, his rifle aimed.

I could've scolded Soap for the curious pull he did to one of the levers, and perhaps I should have, but for once in a long while, I was too stunned to speak. Soap and I stepped back as we looked up towards the sound of hydraulic cylinders in action, watching a massive unit moving into a firing position. Fucking hell, we definitely have a problem now.

"Ballistic missiles." I sighed.

"It's a mobile launcher, no?" Soap asked.

"These'll go a thousand miles..." Miller commented.

"Yeah, at least."

"How the hell did Iran get their hands on this?" Soap cursed, walking towards the side of the container to climb the stack of pallets to get a better look at it.

"7-6, get us through to Laswell."

"Roger. Standby."

"Uh, Ghost... Take a look at this." Soap said, breaking my focus when he looked down at me, moving to the side before I saw an American flag painted on the side of the unit itself. Bloody fucking hell, these were stolen missile launchers. But how?

»»-------¤-------««

"All right, clear the room," Shepherd stated, entering the conference room of the Pentagon. His face stayed stationary with defeat, frustration, and anger. His employees looked at him stunned, each of them jolting when Shepherd raised his voice for urgent response. "Now! Everybody out! Let's go!"

Laswell stayed behind, standing at the foot of the table, eyeing her laptop as she looked as confused as he was. She knew she was about to get an earful for something that he could blame her for if he wanted to, even though it slipped through everyone's hands, not just hers. 

"Iran is in possession of American missiles." He said, confirming what Ghost had told him from the mission.

"American missiles in AQ's hands."

"Hassan has been passing out our ballistic missiles like it's fucking Halloween and we didn't know about it?" He shouted.

"Gives Iran plausible deniability," Laswell replied.

"Oh, plausible deniability my ass – Iran's all over this. I wanna know how many they have and where they intend to use them!"

"If Hassan is moving missiles, then he has a smuggling partner."

"Well, then I would advise you to figure out who that is."

"Give my team two hours with those missiles, sir. I will know everybody who's even breathed on them."

"Negative. I want them destroyed!"

"General, there's valuable intel there."

"This is an intelligence failure, Laswell! It's not gonna be a tactical one. There will be 500 enemy soldiers on that site by sunrise. We need a win fast!" He stated, leaning for his radio. 

A few moments pass by...

"Amsterdam..." Laswell said.

"What the hell's Amsterdam got to do with this?"

Laswell breathed a laugh, "It's a smuggling hub. Ports and canals are insecure. Iran has friends there. We do too..."

"Who?"

"The Captain," she said with a slight smirk, pulling up Captain Price's file. "He's tracking an AQ cell in country as we speak."

"Well, that's the first good news I've heard all day."

"I'll link up with him and handle this myself, sir."

"Kate Laswell back in the field?"

"I want this done right."  

[the-bat-writes-imagines]

Scars - Part 1

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Soulmate AU)

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Story Type: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Violence, Discussion of Past Trauma, Reader with Visible Facial Scar

Summary: Soulmate!AU Where werewolves can have soulmates, and they can feel each other's pain. It's very subtle until you're near each other, then the closer you are the stronger it becomes. This will only stop once soulmates have their first kiss. The reader is Derek's Soulmate and moves to town to teach chemistry at the local high school. Derek knows who you are as soon as he sees you because of a distinctive scar, but he is afraid to let you know. Of course, it becomes harder and harder for him to hide it.

First day as a teacher, no big deal, right? Nope, it's going to be easy! At least that's what you keep telling yourself. Except somehow this feels exactly like walking into high school for the first day did. Which means you are literally shaking with nerves as you down your second cup of coffee and make your way into the chemistry lab. This is your first ever real teaching job. No more TA'ing for a middle school science teacher, no more grad school classes. This is it. You are responsible for whether or not these kids succeed in this class. That pressure coupled with the fact that your predecessor was murdered by serial killer the previous semester really was not making it easy to put forth a facade of calm.

Then there was the scar. It ran from just below your left eye, down your cheek to just under your chin. Almost like a tear running down your face. You didn't like talking about how you got it, it's a horrible memory to relive. You can handle people staring at it and even talking about it behind your back. As long as you don't have to tell them how you got it. You concocted a lie with your friend years ago about getting scraped by a nail in broken fence post. It may not have been a perfect lie, but once you made it clear the story was boring people usually stopped asking about it.

You shake out your shoulders trying to pull your focus back to the task at hand. You write your name on the board in chalk and turn to arrange the few items that you brought on your desk. As you're placing your last desk trinket, a little rock with a wolf painted on it gifted to you by a student from your TA class, the first few students start to filter in. You smile at them as they enter the classroom. Once the bell rings it's showtime.

"Welcome everyone! My name is Miss (Y/L/N) and I am going to let you in on a little secret." You take a quick breath looking around at the class. "You are my very first class. So, I'm going to make a deal with you. You take it easy on me and I'll make none of my quizzes pop quizzes, I'll let you pick your own partners for any collaborative work, and I will keep the number of class presentations to the absolute minimum required by the accreditation guidelines. Deal?" You ask. A few of you students look around at each other before a boy in the back with slightly spikey hair speaks up.

"I mean, sounds like a pretty good deal to me!" He says and the other students either mumble their agreement or nod their heads. "Alright, looks like we're in agreement. Stiles, by the way. Under Stilinski, on the attendance sheet there." He introduces himself. You look down at the sheet to check off his name and are immediately glad he introduced himself. There's no way you would have been able to pronounce his actual first name.

"Alright, that's one off the list. Let's find out who the rest of you are." You start going through attendance.

The rest of class goes well, and you are already feeling better about taking this job. No one asks about the scar. As nervous as you have been it feels right to be here for some reason. Little do you know just how much you really are meant to be here.

...

You are woken in the middle of the night by a pain raking its way through your chest. You sit up nearly in tears due to the pain. You have had these pains for as long as you can remember. They pop up often and have seemingly no rhyme or reason. The only explanation a doctor could give you was a mild nerve condition. Since there was nothing else that could explain it and the pain was usually very mild you accepted it and learned to live with the occasional pain. However, this was significantly more painful than ever before. As you consider making a trip to urgent care the pain starts to fade leaving you with a mild tingling feeling across your skin. Just like all of the other times. So maybe no trip to urgent care, but you make a mental note to set up an appointment with you doctor to talk about your nerve condition getting worse.

...

Your first few weeks at Beacon Hills High School have been going well, and you are starting to feel at home. Tonight is one of the first lacrosse games of the season and you got invited by a couple of your fellow teachers. You are making your way to the stands to meet up with your coworkers when you run into someone.

"Oh! I'm sorry, excuse me." You apologize quickly.

"No that's my bad! I'm sorry." He responds. You finally look up at the man in front and you and he is easily one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen. You almost forget how to speak when you look into those eyes of his. He is staring back at you. He looks caught off guard, almost even a little scared?

"Umm... I'm (Y/N)." You say, extending your hand, hoping to politely break the tension.

"I...I'm Derek." He stutters back before taking your hand. He shakes your hand slowly, still looking kind of shell shocked. It takes a noticeably long time for him to release your hand. "Umm... What brings you to the game?" He gestures at the field.

"Oh, um, I am a teacher at the school and a bunch of us thought it would be nice to support our students on the team and get into the spirit." You tuck your hands into your coat pockets trying to hide your nerves talking to him. "What about you? You look a bit young to be a parent and I think I would have noticed you around school before." You panic as you realize how that sounds. "Not that you're super noticeable..." oops! overcorrected! "I mean your noticeable, just I... What I mean is it's not a big school. I've met everyone on the staff." You make eye contact with him knowing you are bright red with embarrassment. He chuckles softly, smiling at you.

"I'm here to support a friend. Scott McCall. I'm sort of friend slash mentor of his so I come to the games occasionally."

"Oh, that's nice of you." You respond. Lame you think to yourself immediately.

"Yeah, I guess." He pauses. "I should let you get back to your coworkers." He takes a step by to that you can pass him.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks." You say as you step past him. "Enjoy the game."

"You too." He smiles gently again before walking away from the stands and toward the players.

You join your coworkers at their place in the stands, accepting a warm cup of cider from Mrs. Martin. The next couple of hours pass quickly as you watch the game. Every so often you feel drawn toward the front of the stands. Whenever you look down toward the front your eyes immediately fall on Derek sitting with the sheriff and a dark-haired woman that, if you had to guess, you would say is Scott's mom. You count yourself doing this no less than fifteen times over the course of the game. During several of these glances though, you catch Derek looking back up at you. He looks away quickly and so do you. Mrs. Martin elbows you gently to get you attention. When you look at her, she's smirking at you.

"Finding another reason to like Beacon Hills?" She nods in Derek's general direction. You blush immediately.

"Maybe..." You mumble, suddenly very interested in your now empty cider cup. She chuckles at you before turning back to the game.

...

Derek's POV

Goddamnit! He thinks to himself as he walks away from you and toward Scott. Derek had never really thought much of the soulmate bond he had. He barely felt any pain from his other half, and it was almost always so faint. He figured you had to be far enough away that you would likely never meet. Then, when things are at their worst you show up.

He would recognize you anywhere. He remembered the night you got that scar. It was nearly a decade ago, but he never forgot the way that hurt. Whatever made that cut moved slow and ran deep. It hurt him more than any other pain from the bond had, it had to have been agonizing for you.

The fact that you had come to town now felt ominous. Derek was losing his power, there were assassins hunting down supernaturals all over beacon hills and now you were in the middle of it. Then there was the thing he had not been expecting when he met his soulmate for the first time; you were not a werewolf, you were human.

All of this is swirling around Derek's head, distracting him. He almost ran directly into Scott. Scott put out a hand to stop him.

"Whoa, Derek. What's up?" He asks.

"Yeah man, you look like someone shit in your cereal." Stiles adds. Derek just glares back at him for a moment before turning back to Scott.

"Do you remember what I told you about werewolves sometimes having soulmates?" He asks Scott.

"Vaguely." Scott replies. "You told me it was very rare, and that soulmates could feel each other's pain, but only like a little bit. Until they get close then it gets stronger." Scott shakes his head. "But that's it. I don't really remember anything else."

"Did I tell you that I have one?" Derek asks.

"WHAT?!?!" Scott and Stiles shout at the same time, garnering the attention of several of their teammates.

"Keep your voices down!" Derek growls.

"Sorry. It's just, you definitely didn't mention that." Scott responds much more quietly.

"Yeah, well I didn't think it was ever going to come up, until now."

"Why are you telling us now?" Stiles asks him.

"Because she's here." The eyes of both Scott and Stiles bug out in surprise.

"You mean here right now?" Stiles points at the ground in disbelief. "Here? At this game?"

"Yes, I literally just walked into her on the way over here."

"Where?" Scott asks as both he and Stiles start looking around over Derek's shoulder.

"At the base of the stands. She said she was meeting up with her fellow teachers to watch the game." He sighs.

"Wait, she's a teacher?" Scott responds.

"Yes, she is." He looks over his shoulder quickly to see where you ended up sitting. He turns back to the boys. "She's up in the fifth row, next to Lydia's mother. She has a scar."

"Miss (Y/L/N), the new chemistry teacher?" Stiles is looking repeatedly between Derek and you in the stands as he speaks.

"(Y/N)." Dereks says your name quietly, almost to himself.

"She's your soulmate? Our chemistry teacher is your soulmate?" Stiles' words are still riddled in disbelief. "How do you know?"

"The scar. I remember the night it happened. I knew who she was the second I saw it."

"But wait, if she's a wolf, shouldn't the injury have healed without leaving a scar?" Scott looks like he trying to do complex math thinking about it.

"That's just the thing Scott. She's not a wolf." Derek shakes his head. "I could tell the second I smelled her, she's human."

"So, does she know about us? About everything?" Scotts asks. Derek shakes hid again.

"I don't know. I doubt it. Most people don't grow up knowing about our world unless they're in it." Derek looks back over his shoulder at you. "I don't think she knows anything." He turns back to the boys. "And it's going to stay that way." He adds sternly.

"What? Why?" Scott is shocked.

"Why? Look around us Scott. We are constantly fighting for our lives. There are hired killers all around this town hunting us. If she's not involved, I'm not dragging her in to get her killed." Derek's voice rises a bit as he speaks.

"Well, if she's human, then the hired killers won't be after her. Right?" Stiles adds, unhelpfully. Derek glares at him.

"She may not be on the Dead Pool, but do you think any one of the people hunting us wouldn't be willing to hurt her to get to me if they had the chance?" Derek snarls at him.

"Well, when you put it that way, no. I don't think any of them would have a moral crisis over it." Stiles looks a little ashamed as he answers.

"So, what? Are you just not going to tell her about any of it?" Scotts gestures generally around he asks. Then he points to Derek. "Not even your bond?"

"No, it's better if I leave her be." Derek says. He didn't know this was where the conversation was going to go when he told Scott about you, but he knows it is the right choice. Bringing you into this would get you killed. He cannot do that.

Before the boys have time to respond they are cut off by a sharp whistle.

"Stilinski! McCall! On the field, now!!" Coach's aggravated voice rings out. It's clear neither Scott nor Stiles wants to end the conversation here.

"Go." Derek says, before turning to go back and join Melissa and Noah in the stands. He sits next to Melissa. All throughout the game he is trying to make himself forget where you're sitting. Trying not to think about you, just a few rows away. He can't help it though. He keeps looking up to where you are. Physically unable to stop himself. A few times he even catches your eye and has to look away immediately.

One thing was very clear to him; leaving you alone was going to be very, very hard for him.

[the-one-and-only-taffie]

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Yeah, the two endlessly go back and forth about the advice White tries to give and Sentinel ignoring them because he's the King of Iacon. Why of all bots should he listen to someone who isn't even a bot? She ruled an empire once but gave it up for (what he believes to be) dumb reasons. Why bother?

Of course, White Diamond would feel out of place in Cybertron. The cultural and social practices are different. The language is completely foreign to her. She already struggles enough to relate to her own people, so trying to connect to sentient transforming car robots is practically impossible. Although the bots are kind and patient with White, she knows its only out of respect for their beloved leader. She feels very out of place and isolated even when she's by Sentinel's side, and he tries to make her feel more comfortable for the sake of her literally not being blue all the time. She has tried striking conversation with Airachnid, but she either doesn't acknowledge her or outright says she's under no obligation to speak with her. Airachnid straight up doesn't like White. This'll be elaborated upon in a future post.

For the rules thing, I imagine one of them is not interacting with the miners unless it's for an event or something. White suggests holding a party just for them to show their appreciation for their hard work, and Sentinel laughs. He doesn't see the point and jokingly remarks they'd drag dirt and grime everywhere and ruin all the beautifully polished banquet halls. White simply says they could wash the miners, and Sentinel says that wasn't his point. White argued that in the past, she did not see the point in celebrating the accomplishments of or showing appreciation towards the laboring gems because that was their job. What they were expected to do. They were not owed anything for doing the purpose they were literally made to perform. But she's learned that anyone, regardless of their social standing, deserves to be given their dues. If not, they'll feel unappreciated and then forget to appreciate themselves. White giving voice to the little gem strikes again! Sentinel looks at her like she said a Unicronic incantation and tells her that isn't happening. He doesn't like the idea that White would become more popular among the miners if she were to actively spend time with them. He also doesn't want her to witness or hear about how they're treated by the Transformers and upperclasses.

But yeah. Everything White suggests would go in one audial and out the other when it comes to Sentinel. He believes he knows what's best for Iacon compared to a literal alien, so he never takes her seriously and makes that very clear. White despises being ignored like this. Then she's has an epiphany. Was this was how she treated Pink? Of course, it was significantly more cruel and abusive, but progress is progress.

White making little crystal friends. Please. My heart. I remember how Steven brought a pebble to life with his own diamond essence/sweat in the episode Familiar. I wonder if that could work for White, maybe she accidentally created them out of loneliness. I'll have to do more research regarding that. Sentinel would hate them and view them as little pests. He can't release them either. That'd cause a stir. So he let's her keep them until she has to leave for one reason or another. He insists on her taking them all with her. White obliges, but she does miss a few which Sentinel tasks Airachnid to, uh, deal with them. Luckily, they're a lot more slippery than she thought, and White briefly returns to pick them up. Sentinel and his right servo femme pretend they didn't just try to shatter them 10 seconds ago.

Is a headcanon of a headcanon any less canon? Lmao good ending Prime Diamond is cursed to me cause niether of the goobers deserve it, in my humble opinion. But it is cute. Sentinel being the one to put his pride aside for the sake of maintaining the peace instead of White having to do that 24/7 (at least the best she can). He listens to her advice cause he's that curious to see how it'd pan out, mostly to prove her wrong if it doesn't. Then he realizes wait... listening to gf is??? Good??? Lo and behold, he begins to genuinely respect her. Imagining White and Sentinel growing to genuinely love each other and treat each other better despite their flaws... only to have it literally torn away from them. MUAH HA HA HA HA. Hilarious.

Anyway, White fighting the Quintessons hmmmm.... Idk how White would do in a fight cause she isn't a warrior. That's more Yellow Diamond's forte. Her weapon of choice is her words, but chances are the Quintessons aren't the most open to diplomacy unless its tons of energon neatly wrapped with a bow. I don't even know how her diamond powers could affect beings that aren't gems. It would be cool seeing her beat their asses though, and Sentinel definitely would not complain.

And Sentinel and White calling each other "My Prime" and "My Diamond" respectively... I'm using that. Thanks for the idea!

Back with more White Diamond x Sentinel Prime crackship nonsense baby!!!

Ever since I first thought about these goobers, I haven't known a single day of peace (mostly cause the ideas are just racking around in my brain)

So here's a list of headcanons I came up with for Prime Diamond! If you have any questions regarding this ship, my ask box is open. Double if you have any thoughts or anything to add, go on ahead! I hope y'all enjoy!

I may make a part 2 when I come up with more lol

For this relationship to even be possible (as possible as a crackship between two characters from completely different franchises can be), it will have to take place Post-Steven Universe Finale/Future when White Diamond is in her therapy, self-help guru era. And when Sentinel Prime is... alive.

Also, I have been trying to do research regarding this but since the results are so inconsistent, I'm gonna assume White Diamond is around 80 to 90 ft tall and Sentinel is around 60 (based on how he's double Orion Pax's height and apparently TF One Orion is around 33 ft tall). If you know their actual canonical heights or anything close to that, please lemme know!

As mentioned in a reblog, White Diamond would take an interest in Sentinel Prime as a sort of little DIY project. Though he tries to hide it, White with her supernatural intuitiveness can tell there's more to him than meets the eye (he's an asshole). Having been inspired by Steven to see the worth and beauty in imperfections, she wants to give someone like Sentinel a chance like Steven did for her. Though she is making genuine strides to improve upon her previous controlling and obsessive behavior regarding perfection, this aspect of her will resurface in her attempts "fix" Sentinel while in a relationship with him. She adores and finds much interest in his "positive imperfections," but helping him improve on his more negative ones wouldn't hurt, right?

Other reasons she developed an attraction to him is for the same reason all the Sentinel fangirls did: he's just so... pathetic. When he tries to impress her with stories of battles he's never fought in and gives her a tour of his treasure room full of artifacts he didn't discover, she can tell he's trying way too hard to impress her. She finds this cute and charming rather than douchey and desperate.

Sentinel Prime pursued her because, as stated in a previous reblog, "his diva ass was always going to try and seek out a gem fit for a king." He laid his eyes on an 80-90 ft giant alien rock woman and thought,"I need her." As any sane person would. She was supposed to be nothing more than another symbol of wealth for him to show off to the other elites and officials of Iacon City to further cement the royal image he works so hard to maintain. He definitely underestimated how overwhelming White Diamond can be, and I am not just referring to her height.

Sentinel would rather have his spark be extinguished than admit to this, but his stabilizing servos get wobbly at the idea of his alien girlfriend being so much taller than he is. His pride would never admit to this, nor would it accept someone taller than him accompanying him. He believes that as a "Prime," he is supposed to be much taller, bigger, and more imposing than those around them.

Whenever they make a public appearance, Sentinel insists that White shrink herself to a height more tolerable for his fragile ego. He bullshits an excuse about their buildings not being designed for a being as tall as she is. White obliges, but given how Iacon was built when the previous actual Primes were all gigantic and alive, she quickly figures his lie and confronts him about it. He'd just lie again and say he didn't want the other Cybertronians to be intimidated... by her beauty. Clearly, it's not because of some Napolean complex or something. Still, White in her patience era takes the compliment for what it is.

The "guy who doesn't like speeches" vs. "professional yapper" isn't a joke. Sentinel can't stand how much White Diamond loves to yap. She's the kind of person to have thoughts and opinions about anything and everything. Given that she doesn't breathe, she doesn't even need to catch her breath in the middle of speaking, so she can go on and on and on, much to Sentinel's annoyance.

He tries to get her to quiet down at times, but as White tends to do, she either doesn't hear him or straight up ignores him. Her monologuing, along with her height and just how shiny she is, is very overwhelming for Sentinel at times. The only good thing he finds about this aspect of his sweetspark is when she dotes on him and showers him with compliments and attention. As if a attention hungry fame whore needed any more of it.

Sentinel even allows White to indulge in her psychoanalysis, playing up the whole "tragic hero whose brothers and sisters perished in battle and now has to face the pain and weight of protecting his people alone" that she eats up. White does sometimes hit dangerously close to home, so Sentinel shuts her down before she could dig straight to bedrock and uncover the more unfavorable parts of himself he wants to stay hidden.

Speaking of staying hidden, the way White carries herself in public makes Sentinel was to keep her locked away in a jewelry box. White is excellent when it comes to using her words to inflict psychic damage or to build someone up. When it comes to social situations where charisma, relatability, and poise are needed, this is when White is at her most alien. She is not the most socially adjusted given that prior to the finale, she spent thousands of years hidden away in a world of her own delusions. She doesn't have much of a filter, something she has been working on to avoid upsetting offending others.

She has the habit of pointing out any interesting thing that catches her eye, especially about people, whether or not it's positive or negative. This has led to her unsettling the bots at best or offending them at worst. Sentinel then has to come in and use his charisma to difuse the situation and paint her behavior in a more positive light. Only for White to turn around and ask everyone if they ever noticed how Sentinel's wings move in accordance to his mood and how adorable it is. Everyone laughs. Sentinel is thoroughly pissed.

Sentinel definitely has more relationship experience than White Diamond. All of her knowledge comes from what she's heard from the gems that come to her for her advice or from that human show the little green Crystal Gem recommended (she can't remember her name). In her attempts to emulate the behavior of what she's heard of and observed, she ends up coming off as cringe at best or detached from reality. At certain points of the relationship, she even imposes certain "deadlines" on courtship behaviors she expects from Sentinel. All his previous relationships were private, casual flings. He only made this one public because bagging a bad bitch like White Diamond is an accomplishment he felt he had to show off.

This may come to bite him in the aft when her radiance catches the attention of other bots. On these occasions, he acts possessive and showers her with attention, gifts, and affection. He tells himself and Airachnid it's because he doesn't want her to outshine him in the eyes of the public. In reality, he gets jealous and doesn't want to lose her interest and, most importantly, her attention. As overwhelming and embarrassing as she can get, a twisted part of him really craves her attention.

In private, Sentinel can flip flop greatly in how he treats White. On some days he leans on her for support and wants her to pet his wings while he vents about all the dumb, annoying bots he has to fraternize with and all the boring meetings he has to attend. White occasionally interrupts him with advice or her own views on the situation, which frustrates Sentinel. On other days, he's completely detached, not even bothering to give her the time of day. He is at his most consistently sweet and romantic when they're both in the public eye, performing grand gestures of love. This intensifies when they're on camera.

They present themselves as THE Iacon couple, but Sentinel and White argue a lot about pretty much anything. More often than not, White is trying to advise him on how to improve himself and his city, and Sentinel kindly tells her to shut up and mind her own business.

They are both very prideful people who can't accept when they are wrong. White is more willing than Sentinel to admit to it and compromise. If she believes she is 100% in the right, she won't go down without a verbal fight. She has yet to figure out how to properly counter Sentinel's "NUH UH!" though. She believes this is normal and healthy as she hears time and time again how arguments are a sign of a functional relationship. White knows how in the past she never allowed anyone to express their grievances or criticize her. If they did, she'd twist their words to further force her own viewpoint or take control over their mind and body. Seeing Sentinel passionately argue back while White practices her listening skills and only sometimes speaks over him gives her hope that she isn't regressing back to her previous toxicity. No one has told her that disagreements are healthy and normal, but frequent fights and arguments are not. And the kind of hellish circles these two go in just ain't it

[inamindfarfaraway]

How Hermes talks about Luke to others: (the most adoring, protective, forgiving father you've ever met, full of praise and admiration, refuses to give up on him no matter what crimes he commits, defends him to the heroes and begs them to show him mercy, utterly crushed by regret for his own failures)

How Hermes talks to Luke: