#but yeah. i really wish they got more father-daughter bonding

[agentoffangirling]

I refuse to believe that Daisy would just leave Cal after his mind was wiped by S.H.I.E.L.D. Like can you imagine

-Daisy stopping by the vet clinic every week to talk with him and buy him lunch

-They go out on his breaks, taking light strolls down the avenue

-She starts getting to know all of the pets coming in, memorizing them by name and what they have going on

-Sneaking them treats when Cal isn't looking

-Getting so attached to the strays they pick up that she names them

-All of them are named after Percy Jackson characters (Daisy is a PJO kid, fight me on it)

-Daisy ends up adopting a small cat and is always bringing it back to base to show off to the rest of the team

-Said cat was given to Simmons after she came out of the portal for comfort

[stench-blossom]

The Strokes on meeting each other

Various excepts from the book “Meet me in the Bathroom: Rebirth and Rock and Roll in New York City 2001–2011” by Elizabeth Goodman

“NICK VALENSI: I remember what Julian was wearing the day I met him in middle school: blue jeans and a white button-down shirt. The shirt had the name of his former school on it - which was funny to me, that he wore the uniform from his old school to the first day of his new school. I was thirteen, he was fifteen.

JULIAN CASABLANCAS: We met at orientation at the Dwight School.

FABRIZIO MORETTI: Dwight sucked.

…

NIKOLAI FRAITURE: Julian was cool even before the band. He was cool from first grade. We went to Friends School, on the Upper East Side. I don't remember meeting him but I remember when our friendship was solidified. We were six or seven. Our school had a water main break. It was in the morning so it was right after class started and everyone had to go home. My parents were working and they couldn't come to pick me up, so Julian told me to come home with him. The water main didn't get repaired for three days so I just stayed over.

FABRIZIO MORETTI: Nikolai was always around. Julian has this very attractive way of being, even on a subconscious level. People run the risk of wanting to bend towards his wishes. And at that time, the way I saw it, Nikolai was the only one who Julian would bend to. That changed, but I remember Nikolai's school got out later than ours, and Julian would wait for what seemed like a long time, for him to come home and just hang out.

NICK VALENSI: Fab was in my grade at Dwight-I didn't have classes with Julian, but I had English and French with Fab.

FABRIZIO MORETTI: Then they found out Nick was actually better at French than they initially graded him so he moved. We were all friends. But I always felt like I was chasing them, like I wasn't cool enough. They would kinda let me in every once in a while. They were thick as thieves, those two. I would try to hang out with them, and it always felt like a privilege when I did.

…

NIKOLAI FRAITURE: The first time I met Nick, were going to a music store on Forty-Eighth Street, Sam Ash. He was much younger than Julian and I were-he was thirteen and we were fifteen- but then we got home and he played "The Star-Spangled Banner" by Jimi Hendrix and I was like, "Holy shit."

NICK VALENSI: Right away Julian and I started doing music together. He started writing songs basically right away.”

…

RYAN GENTLES: Those guys all go so far back. Albert knew Jules since they were eight years old. He met Jules when he was eight!

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: Julian and I went to boarding school together in France.

JULIAN CASABLANCAS: Before Dwight, I was kind of messing up in school as usual so I got sent to the boarding school that my father had gone to and that he loved. I had a roommate who had some video games, Street Fighter II and shit. People would come over and play.

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: We connected in a way where he was like an older brother. We hung out in his room and played video games, that kind of thing. I was like a little kid to him, even though really, it was only a two-year difference.

JULIAN CASABLANCAS: Albert was a little younger so I wasn't really friends with him then, but he was one of the only other Americans there. I kept a pretty low profile at that school. I mean, it was a pretty big culture shock.

…

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: I met Julian and Nikolai first, before I even tried out for the band. We went to Ryan's Daughter and had margaritas. I was never a big drinker. I was more of a stoner in L.A., so I was pretty wasted already, and then they were like, "Let's get forties!" I was like, "You want beer after this?" So we get forties and we're hanging out on the east park, Eighty-something, drunk.

NIKOLAI FRAITURE: Oh yeah, Carl Schurz Park, with the L.A. boy.

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: It was a fun little bonding experience. Then I went home and threw up everywhere.

…

[arcadiabaytornado]

please tell me that i wasn't the only one being uncomfortable about chloe and david's relationship in lis 2.

like, i'm not saying their relationship is inappropriate, or that i don't think chloe would reach out if she found out he was alive, or that they wouldn't manage to form an emotional bond (being two of arcadia bay's only survivors and both losing joyce price do that to you) especially considering the fact that chloe is still grateful david saved max from jefferson and stuff.

i'm saying that i'm CONVINCED chloe would never see david as a father figure. imo they exagerrated their bond in lis 2. like, c'mon, the guy is calling her ''her daughter'', not to mention he said something like ''your old man doesn't fear the cold'' or whatever in the phone call. like— bro's acting like her actual father. and while i can totally see david desperate for chloe to consider him that way (i think we'd seen a hint of that in bts) i can't see chloe going that far. she can probably have a great relationship with him (after a lot of talking, mind me), but she's not gonna call him ''dad'' either.

(anyway that was longer than i thought lmao sorry for the ranting)

I have such complicated feelings on David and Chloe's Lis 2 relationship, and a lot of my thoughts line up with yours!

I'm not actually opposed to Chloe and David being on speaking terms after the storm. If you combine the facts that: A: They aren't living in the same house anymore and Joyce isn't around to enable David. Therefore, David has lost all the power he had over her. B: They were both one of the few survivors of the storm. I think it makes sense that they would reach out to each other after something so traumatic. C: They both share a grief for Joyce. D: Chloe seemed a little more open to David after she learned he saved Max. E: David seems to have pulled his shit together. Then...yeah I see why they would be in each others lives.

However, their relationship was a little much (at least in my opinion), considering a big issue in BTS and LIS is David trying to force himself into a Father role. That is a role Chloe has always been shown to hold for William, and while step-parents can be 100% a parental figure, the child in the situation needs to be open to that. And Chloe always been hesitant about the idea.

Personally, I would have preferred them to talk, but with David being more of an uncle figure than a father figure if that makes sense?? Like yeah, they're closer now, and they're a part of each other's lives, but David still isn't the Father figure he tried to force himself to be. I think it would have really shown his growth if he could have accepted that and rebuilt his relationship with Chloe outside of the "Dad" box.

That isn't what we got, but it's what I would have preferred! So, yeah, a lot of my thoughts align with yours. I'm not opposed to them speaking, but I do wish their dynamic was toned down a bit.

[jerseyshoresy]

Daddy Dearest Daryl

ANGST, FLUFF

Daryl and reader expand the fam!

Daryl x gn!reader (request from @scoutandtank , please enjoy!! <3)

Warnings: one instance of cussing

Being a parent was hard.

Your daughter was born three months ago and you and Daryl have never been happier. She was the cutest thing, having inherited Daryl’s deep blue eyes and your bright smile. She was the light of your lives and you’d do anything for her… but you just wished that whatever she needed right now at 2:33 in the morning could wait until daybreak. Her cries rang through your room like there was a five alarm fire and she was the 20 fire trucks that showed up to the call. Even with your home in the middle of a farm in the land of nowhere, you were surprised all of Letterkenny hasn’t knocked on your door asking you and your baby to keep the noise levels down. Sighing, you sat up and wiped the sleep from your eyes the best you could while simultaneously putting your feet into the slippers next to your bed.

“Shh, honey, I’m coming,” you told your daughter. As you went to the crib, you noticed she was already out of it and in Daryl’s arms as he tried consoling her. He was standing, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“Dary, I got it. You go back to sleep, you worked all day.”

Daryl furrowed his brow.

“What, and you didn’t work? I know for a fact that baby watching is serious business. I got her, you try and get some rest.”

You loved your daughter and you loved Daryl but you knew there was no way you could sleep with the crying. You and Daryl were now used to getting up at all hours of the night to feed your daughter or rock her to sleep, but tonight seemed especially difficult and you felt yourself getting a bit cranky.

“Dary. I’m already awake and I can’t sleep until she does. Go back to bed.”

“No way! I’m already up too. If you can’t sleep right now, why don’t we just stay up together?”

You shot him a look.

“Because that’s stupid.”

He shrugged the best he could with a wailing baby over his shoulder.

“Yeah, probably. I’ve been told I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed many times.”

You tried so hard to be mad at him but you just had to crack a smile. Daryl was a caring father and husband with a silly sense of humor which was just another reason on the long list of why you loved him.

“Fine then. Since we’re both doing this, I’m going to get her bottle,” you said, going to the kitchen and coming back into your bedroom with some milk. Daryl took it from you graciously and began to feed your baby. You didn’t know what washed over you, if it was the lack of sleep or what, but the sight of your husband and your child bonding together like that was too much for your emotions and you started crying. Daryl, ever so attentive, quickly guided you back to the bed to sit down. He had his crying daughter in his arms and sobbing partner sat next to him, he was feeling a type of tired that he didn’t know was humanely possible, and yet he was still so ridiculously happy that this little family was all his. As you calmed down, so did your baby. Daryl cautiously set her down in her crib as she finally began her descent back into dreamland.

“Let’s talk in the kitchen,” Daryl whispered, taking your hand gently in his and leading the way. You took your place at the dining table while Daryl made you your favorite hot drink. When he took his place next to you and laid a hand soothingly on your back, you felt yourself want to cry even more. You’d snapped at him, yet he’d gone out of his way to still treat you with kindness. You thanked the universe every day for giving you a man like him.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly as to not wake your sleeping daughter.

“Not really, but I know I need to,” you said, resting your face in your hands. “I think I just got super overwhelmed. You know I love you and our daughter so much. It’s like, I know I’m a parent now, but sometimes it just hits me that it actually happened. I see the two people I love more than this entire world and I… I guess I’m just so grateful beyond words for the life I’ve been given that I burst into tears randomly. I’m also really, really fucking tired.”

Daryl wrapped you in a tight hug, resting his stubbled chin on the top of your head.

“I love you so much, y/n. We’re gonna get through the hard parts together, like we always do. You’re such a great partner and parent and there’s no one else I’d rather share a child with.” When you pulled apart from the hug, you two shared a tender kiss.

“I don’t have work tomorrow so how about I’m on baby duty while you get the day to try and catch up on rest a bit?” Daryl suggested, and you nodded sleepily in agreement. He continued on.

“So, now that we got that all sorted out, do you think we’re ready for our second kid?”

“Daryl, I swear to God—!”

[lumiereandcogsworth]

and AND okay I saw your screenshots of Maurice and Belle hugging in his castle and it got me wondering, if HE had stayed there, do you think the curse could've been broken? like obviously it might've taken more time for either of them to start liking the other but do you think a fatherly bond could break the curse or do you think adam would just reject him because "gross, fathers 🤮" and keep him locked up/ignore him?

GOSH THIS IS SOOOO INTERESTING!!!!!!!!!! buckle up because i basically wrote the plot of how this goes down and it’s epic >:)

i do love their bond so much. like post-curse? they’re so precious to me. adam is so nervous around him (for so much longer than he needs to be sjdksj) and was so deeply apologetic and respectful and like. gosh i mean how do you justify “i know i imprisoned both you and your daughter and definitely made you think i’d kill you both but can i please date and possibly marry her now? 👉👈” it’s CRAZY. but of course they get well acquainted, much with belle’s help, to the point of being THE sweetest father- and son-in-law you’ve literally ever seen.

BUT WHAT IF THEY JUST ENDED UP KIND OF STUCK WITH EACH OTHER??? sooo interesting. i definitely agree that yeah, adam would absolutely ignore him for a good long while. not even the servants would consider maurice to be an option for breaking the curse (i mean, they know adam is into men too, but they just Don’t Think maurice is his type🤔) but they do still break him out and bring him to a bedroom i think. because they’re KIND and he’s a sickly old man and i think they were legit worried he would die (and if he stayed in that dungeon? he definitely would have.)

i also don’t think anyone would try to force them to have dinner together at first. they’d make sure maurice ate but probably kept him in his room just kinda like “i guess we’ll just take care of him now !!!!!”

adam & maurice probably first interacted when maurice was feeling better. they warned him not to go near the master since he wasn’t Super Happy they moved him from the dungeon to the bedroom, but that he could go walk around if he so chose. so maurice would go on short wanderings around the castle. maybe he’d find the library (and think “GOSH i wish belle could see this”) and adam would happen to walk by and SCREAM at him asking WHY is he here??? GET OUT!!!! and maurice would go very quickly back to his bedroom😳

i think it would take a lot of convincing/wearing down from lumiere and the gang being like “no he’s actually a really nice man! and HEY… maybe if you befriend him… and his daughter returns… maybe something could happen !! ;)” and adam’s like “that’s literally ridiculous. first of all this man is old and dirty and A THIEF? a CRIMINAL? second of all his daughter seems just as foolish and will probably never come back for him. why would she bother?” and they’re like “we’ve been talking to him though and i think he and his daughter… Love Each Other … ?” and adam’s like. that’s sickening. goodbye.

anyway long story short it would definitely take a WHILE. the servants keep telling adam little things about maurice, or he just overhears them talking about him, or to him, and then… perhaps one day, adam finds maurice in the portraits hall. and adam usually never goes in there but he sees him through the open doorway and he’s like 🤨 and begrudgingly goes in. and maurice is like 😳 at first but notices adam doesn’t seem As Angry. and also isn’t Stomping after him. just sort of coming over. and adam keeps his distance and says “what are you doing here” and maurice is like “my apologies… i was just admiring all these portraits! i’m an artist, you see” and adam’s like >:/ (doesn’t know how to hold a conversation) and it’s very awkward and weird. maurice tries to ask a couple questions about the artists of the portraits but adam doesn’t really have much insight. but maurice doesn’t mind this, he starts rambling about his own artistic background, the portraits he’s done, all this stuff. and adam’s just like. okay👍 and essentially leaves.

but that’s the first shift into realizing that maybe maurice isn’t scum of the earth? maybe he’s a kind man? and something shifts in adam because he’s obviously always unconsciously longed for a good father figure, so i think he starts very slowly being drawn to conversations with maurice. even if he has nothing to contribute, just likes listening to this kind man share his stories, somehow sprinkling life advice into it (as dads always do) and that kind of thing. slowly but surely, adam very slightly starts opening up, until eventually they’re having actual conversations. they go on walks, they talk about art, and paris, and horses, and books. maurice talks about his daughter all the time too.

all the while, adam (and the servants!) have this hope that if adam & maurice can just get close enough, and if belle is able to return somehow, (i cannot even fathom the plot reason for why she can’t come back quickly but i’m gonna chock it up to the Castle Time Zone situation. it feels a lot longer here than it is lol), anyway, if belle is able to return somehow, maybe maurice will endorse their courtship, since he seems to have taken a liking to the peculiar beast. it all feels impossible of course, but that’s the hope.

time (castle time) continues to pass, adam and maurice become so deeply acquainted with each other. adam is almost entirely unafraid to share deeper thoughts with maurice, he really learns to trust him, to care about him. somewhere inside… he maybe begins to love him.

and maurice?? oh he’s definitely learned to love this lad. like 100% he adores adam. he grows to have such a fondness for him, i think it even crosses his mind that “in another life” he’d be a suitable partner for his daughter. but he knows they’ll have to get acquainted and be friends, at the very least. but yeah, there’s definitely love in his heart for adam. they were always meant to have this father-son bond!!!😭

i think it would be so sweet if it just happened so randomly. if adam and maurice were sitting and chatting in the library one night. their topic of conversation had taken a slightly more serious route, and adam shares some kind of insecurity about never really having been loved… not since his mother died. and maurice just smiles sadly and puts a hand on his big shoulder and says “oh, dear lad! but i love you!” and adam’s just like :”0 and it’s in that moment that he realizes, For Sure, that he loves maurice too. his heart is fully unlocked, and love is found there. and in that moment, THE BOY STARTS GLOWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

crazy wild and shocking. maurice stands and jumps back, scared that something BAD is happening!! but then adam transforms into his true self, and maurice is like WHOAGH!!! :D!!!!! and adam is smiling and maurice says “was that all i had to say?? you could’ve changed weeks ago!!” and adam just kind of laughs in disbelief and maurice goes up to him and hugs him tight and adam just melts into it. and of course before long, all the servants come running in as humans, SUPER confused and partially thinking adam and maurice were romantically in love after all 😭😭 but mrs. potts is like “no you FOOLS. they just love each other. like a father and son should.” and adam is so 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and maurice just nods in agreement, arm still around his dear boy ��

and of course that same day they go GET BELLE and maurice is like OH MY DEAR DO I HAVE THE GUY FOR YOU!!!!!!!🫵🫵🫵

the end :)

[pccyouthleader]

Hedgehog Hodgepodge: A Story of Espionage, Confusion, and an Evil Plan Gone Haywire

Chapter 3: Unanswered Questions

“Dad? I’m back!” Aurora called when she walked in the door of her house. Hanging up her shoulder bag, she took out the medicine for her mother. Shadow could hear movement and the sound of violent retching upstairs. She looked back at him, embarrassed. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “I don’t know what to do myself.”

The commotion upstairs soon settled, and Sonic made his way down with an arm load of towels.

“Dad!”

“Hey, Tiny!” he smiled as she rushed to kiss his cheek. His baby girl was his pride and joy. And he was in denial over the fact that she wasn’t a baby anymore.

“Shadow!” he said, looking behind her. “You’re… back…” Sonic said, his smile fading. He obviously wished that Shadow had found someone else’s family to annoy.

“How’s Mom?” Aurora asked, concern in her voice.

“She’s okay,” Sonic replied. He tossed the towels into a room that Shadow assumed was for laundry. “She was really sick earlier, but she’s settled back in bed now. I came down to find something she may be able to eat.”

“I’ll get it!” Aurora said, moving to the kitchen before Sonic could respond. She scrambled to get some crackers and a glass of water and race up the stairs. Aurora secretly found it amusing when her father and boyfriend had to make small talk.

     Sonic and Shadow stood looking at each other, not sure what to say. The void between them still wasn’t completely healed. But he was dating Sonic’s daughter, so Shadow broke the silence first. “How is Amy really doing?”

“I don’t know,” Sonic responded. He walked over and flopped on the sofa. “She’s been so sick the past few days. I’m really worried about her.” His brow was furrowed in concern.

     Shadow was having trouble finding words of comfort. He had never been sick before. So he just stood propped in the doorway awaiting Aurora’s return.

     When she came back down the stairs, Aurora looked concerned as well. “She managed a few sips of water, and a couple of crackers, but that’s all. I left everything next to the bed.” She half expected her dad and boyfriend to be sparring upon her return, but both were the picture of civility. She heaved a sigh. “I’ve got to get going if I’m going to make it to YH on time. Don’t forget about Mom’s appointment this afternoon.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for all the chili dogs on Mobius,” Sonic sighed, sitting up. “I hope the doctor can figure out what’s going on.”

Aurora kissed her father and headed out the door, Shadow close on her heels.

“Shadow?” Sonic said before he closed the door behind them. Shadow stopped and eyed him suspiciously. It pained Sonic to ask his sometimes-nemesis for help, but this situation was different. “Watch out for her, will you? This is hard on her too.” Shadow nodded in agreement, then quietly closed the door. 

     Sonic knew Shadow would ensure her safety, and fight any adversary that threatened it. He just hoped Shadow would keep his hands off of her. Even Sonic couldn’t deny the bond that was growing between them, but he didn’t have to like it.

     Sonic stood and headed back up the stairs to check on Amy. When he walked in their bedroom, he smiled at his beautiful bride. Her quills were a mess and she had dark circles under her closed eyes, but he thought there was never a more beautiful creature on the planet. Well, except for Tiny, of course.

“You doin’ okay, Ames?” he asked softly, not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping.

“Yeah…” she answered slowly. “The crackers really helped.”

Sonic moved over to the bed and sat down next to her. 

“Oh Sonic!” she cried, burying her face in her pillow. “What is wrong with me?!”

“I don’t know, Ames, but hopefully we’ll figure it out soon.”

“That doctor’s appointment is this afternoon, isn’t it?” she asked. Sonic nodded.

“Guess I’d better start getting ready.”

“Babe, we’ve still got three hours before we have to be there!” 

Amy gave a weary grin. “I know. But I’ve got to factor in the time I’ll spend with my face in a bucket.”  

[fandomworld9728]

Polyship Week - Blitzo/Stolas/Lucifer (Day 7):

"There we are. You look great, darling."

"You think so?"

"Yes. God, can I get out of this suit already?"

Lucifer couldn't believe this. It was their wedding day. When they had seen their two partners get married, they had been so happy for them. But Lucifer wondered if that would happen for them too, or if they would just stay dating. Which was fine! Thier relationship with Stolas and Blitzo made them happier than they had been in years.

When Adam and Alastor joined that relationship, Lucifer had been over the moon! More partners to love and that loved them. However, being married had been such a wonderful time in their life and now that they get to experience that again...

Well, they were nervous to say the least but also so excited! It had been arranged by Lucifer's father, but luckily, it was already someone that they loved very much. The rest of his partners and their daughters were so supportive and just as excited as Lucifer had been.

"Not until later Blitzy. Now, behave. We're here for Luci's wedding."

"How fun. Now our relationship has two married couples in it. What is it with you two and marriage? I only got married because it's what Stolas wanted. I think the whole thing is bullshit. We're together. That's all. People will know."

"Yeah. We know. But as someone who was in a former happy marriage for six years, it's just nice to have it all finalized. It makes it all feel so... whole and complete in a certain way."

"I agree. Though, my marriage to Stella was not very pleasant. I am so lucky to have found Blitzy. Oh! And you of course, Lucifer."

Chuckling, Lucifer fixed their hair in the mirror. They had gotten it cut for the wedding and slicked it back. It wasn't too bad of a look. Maybe they should keep it like this.

"I know Stolas. We can there are no favorites in a relationship but that isn't true. I know that you love me too, but nothing will come between that bond you two have."

There was a light knock on the door before it opened. "Are you ready dad? Everything is ready- oh my goodness you look amazing in your white suit!"

Smiling over at their daughter, Lucifer went and scooped her up in a hug. "Thank you, duckie. You look so good in your suit as well."

They couldn't believe how grown Charlie was now. Their precious little girl was a woman now. Hopefully, there would be another wedding for her and Vaggie. They had been together for ten years after all. 

"I should let you know that mom is here."

"Really? I didn't think she'd actually come when I sent out the invitation."

"Me either. She's here with her girlfriend. I feel like I've seen her before."

"That's because after we got divorced, she got together with Adam's ex-wife Eve. You've seen pictures of her. You remember his sons Cain, Abel, and Seth? Eve is their mother."

"Oh! Wow... what a twist."

"Alright. We can talk about this shit later. Let's get this show on the road."

~

"I never thought I would see the day. You're getting married."

Alastor couldn't believe it either. Yet he has grown to truly love Lucifer and when Satan had offered up Lucifer's hand in marriage he jumped at the chance. He had decided long ago that they were his mate, and this just confirmed it.

"I am quite the lucky man, aren't I? I was surprised by Lucifer wanting to incorrupt demonic traditions into our wedding."

"It's sweet. Though, I wish it were really blood in goblet and not wine."

"We do have to keep it a little tamer than a true Hellish Ceremony. There are humans in attendance. Not to mention so angelic beings. I am just thankful that I do not have to be in my human disguise the whole time."

"Dad!"

Running into the room with little warning, Niffty tried to climb him like she used to. Huffing when she couldn't find purchase, she gave up and stood in front of him. She looked absolutely stunning in her bridesmaid dress. While no longer a little girl she was still relatively short for her age. Not that she was bothered by it. She celebrated still being able to crawl through the vents.

"Yes, Niffty dear, what is it?"

"Charlie told me to tell you that everything is ready and that you should get to the alter."

"Is it that time already? I better get a move on and not keep my partner waiting."

{1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7}

[genderlesssinner]

Alright nerds I'm back

Here we go with 108

SAMUEL we are 3 minutes into this episode. Holy shit.

Some weird shit going on with the gaurds okay okay

It's Ira isn't it

He's so creepy and I love it

How did no one react to "tying up daddy and gagging him" holy shit Tal

Sometimes I love watching with subtitles for the description of their fuckery. [Batman's Bane nonsense]

Ashton hold on what do you mean by take care of this

7th fucking level Psychic Lance woof. Talk about burn all your stuff

Yeah no he ded

Well this could go so poorly

"Did this just completely backfire?" Yes yes it did

Okay okay maybe we're not totally fucked

Hopefully Nana can help. Okay so gonna have some flying groups? I def agree that Nana should meet up in case Gloamglut does come back

An hour, short rest it up bitches

I can't help but picture the temple put back together with gold in the cracks, like that one method of fixing pottery

The 'play' idea isn't a bad idea I just don't know if these chucklefucks can pull it off

I love Robbie so much. Gaes is a badass spell when it works and I also do not know how tf to pronounce it

They've been talking for like 20 minutes and I still don't know what they're doing great job guys

"You knocked him out. I just wanted them to do the scene." beautiful

Oh my god.

Ash playing director for these idiot is hilarious

Oh fuck okay well shit Zathuda is gone okay okay okay but Laudna knows where he is

Back in initiative and everyone is tapped or close to it,,,, grrreaaat

Get his ass Chet he can't have many hit points

Yeeeep there's the dragon

Okay if they *just* got the short rest Nana should be here soon RIGHT??

Oooh shit okay Zathuda is dead um this is gonna have consequences Gloamglut is bout to be real mad I bet

Yeah mhm okay

Yes Fearne get the dragon GET YOUR PONY BOO

Ashley just became Mister for a second 😂😂

This could be good or it could make it worse

Oh no he saaaddd 🥺

Dorian is like nope not ready for the dragon

Yeessss Fearnie

The little guys are gonna have shaken baby syndrome from being in the dragon's hands while he's flying

Come on, horse girl!

Break! We have a fucken dragon boys. For the moment, anyway.

Back into it - flying to Nana's

Ooh interesting Gloamglut doesn't wanna land at Morri's

Oop Nana put Gloamglut on a leash

What does the Loom do what. Nana.

I definitely think they should ask Zathuda some things. They could ask about bonding to Gloamglut and also about moon stuff

Ooohhh Nana really has it for Ira huh. Spooky

I wanna see the Loom. That did not answer any questions.

This should be interesting and maybe (likely) scary

Mhmhm gruesome but also cool af

Ashley and Marisha grinning while everyone else is in various stages of horror is great

Okay look I get them checking in with Fearne vecause the guy was her father.. But like. She didn't really know him. Like someone said a bit ago, he was her father, not her dad. And yes she's lost the opportunity to know him but it's not like she lost a parent that raised her.

"It's not as nice as yours" Jesus Braius

Fearnie getting feral on us hm

Oh Ashton my love. We know you have parental issues hun.

"Are you okay Matt?" "I'm fine."

Are. Are we sure Matt's okay? (joking, mainly but like damn creepy shit this ep yall)

✨ Generational trauma ✨

I'm worried about what this conversation is gonna mean for Ashton a little bit honestly though they've had one hell of a look this whole time

Ah here's the good stuff. So something about Ruidusborn, particularly the strongest Exultants, can unlock magic similar to the Divine Gate?? The implications

"I wish I had more empathy." "You *are* my daughter." oof

Ooo a hemocraft ritual for the dragon?? Up your game Chet

Failure brings an eternal enemy, no pressure

Exaltants disappearing?? Uh oh. Maybe Ludinus has a Version 2 of the funnel thing

Oooooh maybe he's throwing them at the Gate holding Predathos eesh

Oh my god maattttt the Misty Step

DORIAN DID YOU LEAVE THE EMISSARY OUTSIDE

Okay okay Nana got this

I would now be like side eyeing all of the ...everything in Nana's place. Especially if it still has a face. Eugh.

THANK YOU LAUDNA for actually checking in with my boy. Orym is being so strong for everyone all the time 😭

Are Fearne and Ash gonna cuddle the dragon? I love this

Ooohhh Doriaaannnn same though

Oh man okay blow all the spell slots Laudy

This is fucking insane what even

Oop he's a tree okay

Several Ludinuses slapping him for several minutes, wonderful

These fucken rolls tonight damn

Oo using the spirit horse awesome awesome

Orym's speech and Ash leaving like that ajxbjdv

I have lots of feelings but no words for them

Now I want them to take Laudna back to the Vasselheim temple for some lake of blood action

Robbiiiieeee damn 'if a god can see the future.. I would imagine the one you can't see is the one where the gods come to an end.'

Oryyym an Doriaaannnn 😭😭 boooyyssss

Look at that, character growth. Ash left instead of starting shit

Oo okay Braius oh wait shit okay which god

Chase the rest away. So the betrayers would stay?? That's *bad* yall

SAMUEL

Braius is bout to get some Nana and I don't know how to feel about it

MILF Manor : Morri I'd like to Fuck. Oh my god

Cursed demon armor

Bet you if you fail the save it stays

Bompers. Wild.

Oooohhhhhh Gloamglut just saaaddd but he seems thankful that Fearne plans to let him go free

Aww he's a good booyyyyyyyy

I love Fearne and Ashton's interactions so much aaaaaaaa

Horror cozy that's totally an aesthetic isn't it

♥️♥️♥️

And that’s it guys. These posts are so long but I normally don't have a good place for a page break.. Eesh. I just have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about these idiots we love so much. But also like sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be doing this and I just zone out and listen to them and then I'm like fuck I had a Thought and didn't write it down damn..

[garricks4thwingqueen]

Little One Part 4

A/N: Sorry this next part took so long guys! I was debating about what route I wanted to go. There's a little surprise in here that I had thought about making a new Oc for and a new guy but finally decided Amber had the prefect background for that idea already!

Our girl is prepping for presentation and day and threshing and we will soon meet her very special dragon!

 Part 4 Amber POV

Word Count: 1150

      I sighed that was a big promise. “You know with our histories and my father that’s a huge promise.” “I know Amber and it’s not one that I make lightly.  “There’s something else you should know, Garrick.” I Sighed heavily. “Ok let me hear it.” he said, pulling me in closer to his chest. “Being my father’s only child he expects high things from me especially with his last name status.” Garrick nodded in response, letting me continue.  “One of those things that he told me when I was 16 after my mother passed is that he wants me to have an arranged marriage.” “Arranged marriage?” Garrick asked, taken aback slightly. I nod trying to hold my own tears back at the thought. “He told me I could date but never get too comfortable with anyone because he has my husband picked out for me.” “Don't get too comfortable huh? That may be a problem.” Garrick chuckled.  “I think it's going to be. But you needed to know Garrick before whatever this is gets to far-” 

        “Don’t even Amber.” “I’ll protect us no matter what.” “No matter what.” I repeated and nuzzled myself into his strong warm body. That was the first night I had fallen asleep in Garrick’s strong and warm arms and gods did feel like home.  

     It was the end of September which meant that it was presentation day. I sat with my squad breakfast aimlessly moving my food around my plate with the fork. “You should eat, Melgren.” Sawyer said, nudging my shoulder as I slightly cringed at the use of the last name even though I knew he was doing it in good fun. “Yeah I don’t think Tavy Tav would be happy if his girl showed up to the presentation on an empty stomach.” Ridoc chimed in. “Boys back off.” Rhiannon said. 

   “What's wrong Amber? Something is clearly bothering you.” Rhi asked. “I don’t know.” I sighed. “It’s my father I guess; it's just stuff like this. It just always jogs a nerve. It’s like his constantly breathing down my throat expecting me to go beyond whits and measures you know?” I felt violet place a soft hand on mine. She had been a best friend since day one and if anyone got where I was coming from it was her. 

    “I know, Amber. I know. But he's not here now and Garrick is.” She smiled at me. “I know.” I half smiled finally finishing my breakfast. 

     We walked out to the outskirts of the meadow; I was in between Violet and Rhiannon as we walked out to the field. We could see the dragons lined up several feet away from the path in a formation of their own. No this wasn’t my first time being around a dragon but with their heights averaging about 25 feet tall each it was always a sight to see. Being my fathers daughter I had been around dragons my entire life and I knew Violet was just as much if not more even though she spent a lot of her time training to be a scribe. 

   I was taken out of my thoughts by a “Let’s go second squad your up next.” I had almost forgotten that Garrick had told me he would be out here before I left his side for a breakfast that  I wish I hadn't eaten. “Into formation.” Garrick ordered in his leadership style voice that always seemed to come naturally to him. Gods he really was a gift from Amari you thought getting into formation as he spoke.  

   I end up near the back of our formation this time still between Rhi and Vi. I notice Vi and I both cringe as we hear a rushing sound of wind in the near distance that we both knew another soul had been deemed worthy to bond. Was it really that hard for people to pay attention in Professor Kaori’s class? Garrick’s hazel eyes skim over our squad, his eyes looking on mine as he started speaking again: “Hopefully Aetos has done his job and you know to walk in a straight line through the meadow. I’d recommend staying at least seven feet apart.” 

   “Incase one of us gets scorched.” Ridoc chimed in. Garrick rolled his eyes but still answered; “Correct Gamlyn. But if you want to cluster- just know that if a dragon disfavors one of you then they’ll likely burn the whole lot only to just weed out one of you.”  Garrick warns, still holding his gaze on me. “Also remember you're not here to approach them and if you do-.” 

   “You won't be making it out of the clearing.”  I finished for him. “Correct Melgren.” He answered, giving me a soft almost reassuring smile. “Can I ask a question?” someone asks from the front. Luca I recognized after he started talking. 

  “Third squad, tail section of fourth wing already went through and I talked to one of the cadets…” “That isn’t a question.” Garrick answered, lifting his eyebrows and I could tell he was getting annoyed.  “Right, it's just that they mentioned they saw a feathertail?” Luca finished nervously.  Vi and Rhi and I rolled our eyes at some of the comments as Sawyer stated “Professor Kaori never mentioned a feathertail. I know because I studied each available dragon.”   And that I had believed Sawyer as I know how badly he wanted to bond this time with this being his second threshing. “Well guess there is 101 now.” Garrick said, glancing his gaze away from mine and back towards the valley. He then added “Relax feathertails rarely bond to a rider. It’s probably just curious; I can’t even remember the last time one has been out of the Vale. You’re up, stay on the path, wait for the entire squad, you walk back down. It really can’t get simpler than that kids so if you can’t follow those instructions then you earn whatever happens to you in there.”  

    Garrick turns and heads towards the path telling a senior section leader I’ve seen a few times during battle brief; “They’re all yours.” God, why did I find his leadership style so sexy? I thought to myself as I fell into line between Violet and Rhiannon the instructed seven feet between each of us before we entered the clearing. 

   “Remember to talk to each other.” The senior section leader said as I thought hard to remember her name but couldn’t. “It helps just have natural conversation with each other as you would anywhere else, and you will do just fine second squad.” She said as I casted one more look towards Garrick before I line started walking, and I swear he almost mouthed a “Good luck.” with a smirk and a nod as my squad started to walk single file seven feet apart from each other into the meadow. 

A/N: The surprise was the arranged marriage! I knew it needed to have a strong last name presence for our oc my other idea was going to have her be another Sorrengail but I thought this idea fit Amber perfectly!

[leorai4life]

Analysing Leorai - differentiating rumours from reality (a 3 part analysis)

Introduction

To this day, Leorai (2012) remains a controversial ship as many view it as incestrious and therefore taboo. I understand why many would view it as much - especially if those in question haven't watched the 2012 show - and that without proper analysis the concept of "adoptive brother and sister in love" sounds pretty bad. However, I for one can say with certainty that Leorai is not a ship that is not as simple as revolving around two adopted siblings in love - as characters, be it platonically or romantically, Leo and Karai's relationship has many layers that cannot be dulled down to being one thing or the other.

Before I start this analysis, I just want to say if you're an anti Leorai shipper or just not a big fan of shipping in general, that's cool! I'm not trying to convince you to like this ship or anything - however I do hope that in reading this you can learn to respect those who do ship it.

Aspect Analysis 1 - Siblings? So, a common argument for why Leorai is "wrong" is that it's promoting incest. Well let's look at Leo and Karai's parental relationships and discuss that:

Although they both technically share a father, Splinter is barely granted the chance to form a paternal bond with Karai due to the fact that he didn't get to raise her, nor spend time with her once the truth had been revealed. Even when she was brought back to the lair and reunited with her blood father, she still chose getting vengeance over getting to know and love her blood father. Leo on the other hand was raised by Splinter since he was a child and views him as his beloved father and sensei. He looks up to his adoptive father for guidance and emotional support; he is Leo's role model, and essentially all Leo wishes to be as the new sensei.

When we compare the bond Leo has with Splinter to Karai's, Leo had more experience being Splinter's son/ward than Karai did. Even Splinter's death had more of an impact on Leo than it did Karai; Leo was filled with anger and despair and continued to "talk" to Splinter when seeking guidance, whilst upon hearing of his death Karai's response was more reserved than distraught. This is an understandable reaction, as within a couple of weeks Karai had had her whole life exposed as a lie, became a mutant, got brainwashed and on top of all that didn't even get to form an emotional and parental connection with her one true father before he too was taken from her. So yeah, it's no wonder she wasn't able to emotionally process his death like the others did (heck, even April and Casey are more bonded with Splinter than Karai is).

So to relate back to my initial point of both Leo and Karai technically sharing a father, they each share him for a different reason: Leo is Splinter's son by a lifelong bond, whilst Karai is Splinter's daughter by blood. This difference in reasoning does not make either one of them any less of Splinter's child, but this difference does make them be less seen as siblings from each other's POV. Leo was raised with his blood-brothers by the same father/sensei, under the same roof and with a shared family dynamic - so he of course views them as siblings. This is why something like Raph x Leo differs drastically from Leorai as Raph and Leo have always treated one another as siblings because it's what they're used to - so turning that dynamic romantic would make both of them extremely uncomfortable. However, Karai enters the Turtles' lives when they're well into their teens - aka, when they're beyond extreme (emphasis on extreme) influence. On top of that, her first introduction to them was 'Shredder's daughter'/'a Foot Clan kunoichi' - so taking her home and attempting to accept her as a sister didn't really work as there was an already established family dynamic between the brothers and Splinter which Karai hadn't been around to be a part of. This is why she's mainly viewed as a close friend/distant family by the bois (although bless Mikey for at least ATTEMPTING to give her the opportunity to be their sister).

Karai even distances herself from forming any sort of familial bond with the Turtles by refusing to join their Dojo and rarely instigating missions with them unless absolutely desperate - instead she opts to rebuild the Foot Clan under her rule and take her life into her own hands. And if anything, she builds herself in the image of The Shredder - a powerful leader with an arsenal of ninjas at her disposal - but with the heart and honour of her father. When Mikey queried why Karai didn't come home with them, Leo states "Well, she's not a little kid anymore - she wants to take control of her own life"; in a way, this indicates that Karai doesn't want the burden of being a part of a family. Perhaps after living a life of lies under a tyrannical "father" she just wanted to be her own person on her own - literally (well, aside from Shini).

So to answer the query of "Aren't they technically siblings?" the answer is logically no, as they do not share a sibling bond psychologically or even biologically; Leo is literally a giant talking turtle mutant...she's a human-mutant hybrid...they literally could not be more NOT related lol.

Anyways, onto the next point:

Aspect Analysis 2 - "The Turtles are blood relatives of Splinter"

I see a lot of antis use this point in an argument, saying that the Turtles share blood with Splinter so they are blood relatives.

Now speaking specifically about the 2012 show, we never get an official confirmation that the brothers and Splinter share blood. I've even searched interviews with Ciro Nieli and the most he's said is that "All the turtles share a piece of Splinter" - though he was talking trait-wise...so...yeah.

My personal view is that since they are linked to the last thing they touched (be it the pet store owner, a bunch of curious kids or Splinter himself), I do believe they share a connection with Splinter - but not in the sense that the same blood runs through their veins. I believe that when the Turtles and Splinter mutated, the Turtles humanoid appearance was created by the shared contact of the pet store owner, curious kids, and of course Splinter. The mutagen used the fundamentals of all these humans' DNA to basically ~evolutionise~ the Turtles into their humanoid selves (think of it as though they're a combination of turtle and a dose of general human DNA).

As far as I can tell, the only thing the human interaction with Hamato Yoshi (Splinter) got them is some of his core traits - a sense of honour and leadership for Leo, a fierce and protective fighting spirit for Raph, creativity and ability to improvise when under pressure for Mikey, and ingenuity for Donnie. Physically, it seems only Donnie gained something from Splinter (his reddish-brown eyes and natural tall stature) whilst the other brothers must have gained their distinctive physical traits from the other human contacts; such as Mikey, Raph and Leo having different eye colours than Splinter, Mikey's freckles, and Donnie's overbite and gap tooth. My personal headcanon is that Mikey got his empathic traits and love for pets from the pet shop owner hehe.

So essentially Splinter's foundational pieces of DNA helped to shape their roles on the team (leader, warrior, inventor and creative-and-spontaneous-ball-of-butt-kicking).

I guess a question would be "but if they all did a blood test, would Splinter be found to be related????" - my answer to that is yes, though very distantly, as their main DNA result would be a turtle (duh...) whilst the rest is a jumble of the other humans' DNA. Think of it as though you did a DNA test and got a match with a bunch of random people - it is possible to share a small amount of DNA with someone and not be related. In other words, it's possible to share genetic material and not share a common ancestor or any identifiable genealogical connection.

Aspect Analysis 3 - "INCEST!"?

This relates back to point 1 where I discussed whether Leo and Karai see each other as siblings and whether shipping them should be considered promotion of incestrious behaviours. This answer is actually really simple: no, Leorai does not encourage incest.

Why not? Because incest, by definition means "sexual relations between people classed as being too closely related to marry each other". And guess what? Not only are Leo and Karai not closely related, but they never did the deed, or even kissed. They didn't even become 'official' official in the show, so calling Leorai incest is not a fact.

In all honesty, Leorai is my favourite ship of the show because unlike the other ships they didn't need to be physical with each other (e.g. kissing, arms around each other, tight hugs, carrying in arms) to show the audience that they cared deeply for one another. They showed their love through emotional connection and the "little things". Leorai is much like Zutara for me in this sense; I'm happy with what we got because it felt more like two characters building a genuine connection that would lead to an eventual romantic relationship (be it in show or not) than having to shove it in our faces that "tHEY'rE iN LOve beCaUSe tHEy KisSed!" (*cough* Kataang).

If you as a writer can make two characters have a romantic connection without having to make them get physical then you know you've written a relationship - heck, you know you've written the characters - right. And my personal headcanon is that Leo and Karai would share an asexual relationship eventually; no smut, just wholesome love :3

To conclude: Leorai is not incest. Not biologically, not psychologically, and not even romantically. I know not everyone will agree with this as many prefer to just stick with the most popular opinion so they don't cause controversy and that's fine - but heck, I'm tired of hiding my love for this ship cuz "I'll upset someone". That someone can be offended all they want, but I'm still not gonna change myself to suit their agenda.

I'm too old to keep getting involved in anti-ship nonsense (in ANY fandom, tbh), so if you're an anti reading this I'm not gonna try fight your opinion. You can have it, and I'll respect it cuz it's your opinion. I just hope that one day we as the internet can evolve to a point where we're smart enough to just not actively search for something we despise and only focus on what makes us happy.

As for my fellow Leorai shippers- thank you for reading my ramble! I love and appreciate all of you that continue to stand by this ship, and I hope to give you more Leorai content soon! Hopefully one that isn't a ramble, haha 💙🖤

Thanks again for reading, and have a good day/evening!

[fufaitazu]

as promised lamey will now lay another lame fankid in front of you. this time under a spoiler since it's so shameless compared to mio. this is "honey." no surname. boss's (other) daughter. FULLY REDUNDANT BECAUSE TRISH EXISTS but she goes in another direction.

ok so for someone who admits part 5 is one of her least favorite parts i think a fucking lot about part 5.

yes i recognize she looks a lot like her father its fine

this is "honey". the idea here is literally just diavolo having a second estranged daughter. does it really track no do i care no i told you it was cringe i warned you if your expectations were higher that is on you!

anyway i wanted her to be a more deliberate narrative parallel to her father who only shows up a while after he's dead. like she only pieces together her father's identity after he's deceased and she's found the only piece of inheritance she got from him - his stand, king crimson.

yeah sure she just has king crimson. it's fine. she (years after part 5, this isnt like a "2 days after purple haze feedback" thing) she'd have put all the pieces together about who her father was and become convinced that she deserves more than what she has. that as his child she deserves his spot at the top since he (and no one else) ever bothered to give her anything and she's had to violently claw her way towards what she has today.

anyway what sets her apart from her father is that she refuses to rule through fear; instead of hiding her identity and killing anything that gets too close, honey is friendly, open, and personable, making sure that her subordinates are genuinely like family to her. in her eyes that's a more unshakable bond than keeping people held down with bribery and threats of violence. in most cases she's right.

her goal is to take control of passione. she resents giorno for inexperience and taking what's rightfully hers. she admires trish, and wishes they could be on the same side; but she's heartbroken to accept that won't happen. she only intends to be violent when it's necessary; but when she deems it necessary, she is absolutely ruthless.

she interacts with king crimson physically a lot. he's her closest companion. but anyone who works under her she considers a true friend.

i called her honey because you catch more flies with honey than vinegar

if you have questions let me kno. thanx

[my-mt-heart]

Hi, my-mt! Are you ok with some speculation? Don't know if you can because of strike...Well, I've been thinking about the Caryl kids: Sophia, Lydia and Henry..and now, I believe, Laurent. And I have a little theory that I would like your opinion. I see Sophia and Lydia as a pair - both girls had witnessed and/or suffered severe abuse from one of their parents, both are sweet, shy and so afraid, one got forever lost, the other one was saved, nurtured and got to grow up into a happy young woman with a loving found family. Ok, this pair is an easy one to explain.

Could Henry and Laurent be a pair too? Both are naive kids, very loved and treated as special (a prince, a miracle) by their communities, very sheltered, and have to leave their homes so they can learn new things that will help them on their future adult lives and their missions (to become the leader of the Kingdom, to save human kind LOL). Daryl agrees to be their chaperon basically for the same reason. He never developed a full bond with Henry because that wasn't the story being told, but he cared for him and tried to protect him from harm. Carol loved Henry as her own, but, at the beginning, she tried as hell to not be involved with him, and, after, she wasn't fooled by the fact that he, as Sophia, didn't have a mean bone in his body. And we can speculate that Daryl'll become some sort of father figure for Laurent, and that Carol, after meeting him and understanding how important the kid is to Daryl, will care for him too.

So it's like..Sophia and Lydia are their daughters, to them both, while Henry and Laurent are adoptive sons to one of them and cared by the other. If Isabelle dies (and I hope she doesn't, I'm tired of TWD killing off their characters), Carol may or may not become an adoptive mother, and they can wait until Laurent is grown enough and safe to finally leave France. Sophia and Henry die, Lydia and Laurent live, the cycle is finally completed and Carol and Daryl are finally free and at peace to be happy together. *cheers* Okay, what do you think about my half-cooked theory, my-mt? Followers please join in, I would like to see what fellow carylers think too. (( Oh, I don't factor Judith and RJ on this reasoning because I believe Carol and Daryl relate and care for them on a different level, on the primary basis that they are substitute parent figures who stepped in when needed. Yes, those kids are so much loved by Uncle Daryl and Aunt Carol but, in the end, that's what they are, uncle and aunt, niece and nephew. Yes, I'm completely ignoring that Judith called Daryl "daddy" on the main show finale because 45 minutes later he left and got himself stranded on fucking France so...also he wanted to run away to New Mexico with his boo and leave the kids to Tia Rosita and Uncle Aaron...so...yeah. ))

Hi there ��

I agree with you on the parallels between the two girls. I think Lydia was meant to represent the daughter Caryl saved together. Because they all share a similar background, coming from an abusive home, Daryl and Carol were able to teach her how to rise above that trauma. They showed her how to be part of a family, plus what it really meant to love and be loved. I really wish we got to see more of that dynamic, but imo that’s where the cycle ended. Daryl and Carol were meant to chase their freedom on the road together after that 😒

Henry mattered to Daryl because he mattered to Carol, so it stands to reason any kid Daryl cares about would earn Carol’s love too. But to be completely honest, I’m having a really hard time believing Laurent fits into that equation. Why does Daryl need to be a father figure to him? Because the nun said so? For one thing, that makes me super uneasy. Without even watching, I can tell you his bond with Isabelle is nothing like what he developed with Carol, so that can’t be what’s motivating him. Unless it’s revealed later that Laurent was also abused, Daryl isn’t naturally going to gravitate to him like he did to Carol, Sophia, and Lydia. He just feels like a means to an end to me, though I’m confident the show will try to force an emotional reason and it’ll piss me off 💀

I think after Daryl and Carol help him fulfill his destiny (🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️), they can leave him in the safe hands of the family he already has. They don’t need to adopt him.

Thank you for sharing your theory. I hope you don’t feel like I’m invalidating you because that’s not the intention. I think what it really comes down to is not trusting Zabel’s writing. Especially not when there’s evidence to suggest he didn’t even bother to watch the flagship show 💀

[munchkinmarauder]

Thank you for taking the time to answer this! I am all for the Pietro promotion as he gets so shafted in the cannon and is such an interesting character! So sick of the false Pietro manipulated Wanda narrative around HoM when he was the only one trying to protect her. Comics having Wanda put Pietro down for "empowerment" while having her run towards, ignore the abusive actions of and not being angry at her father and exhusband who have actually manipulated, used, gaslight and hurt her is very strange.

100% think what you said about Magneto and Lorna is spot on. Magneto does love his children but is not capable of really loving them the way they need or as he should. He's been too burned by life to ever really be capable of it. Now his dream has been achieved in Krakoa He's kinder to his daughters and in the begining he was very keen for Pietro to carry on his legacy but that for obvious reasons didn't pan out and he treats his son badly as punishment. His abuse of Pietro is well known in the fandom but the Magneto fans turn it into a joke at Pietro's expense and go all "Magneto is a girl dad anyways" ignoring the ways in which he was abusive to his daughters (particularly Wanda) and how his kindness to them seems almost conditional on them being his good little girls and once they step out of line he treats them just like he treats their brother who refused to forgive him and give him free passes the way his daughters have. I really enjoyed you touching on that in Revanant and it's been fun to see how the second Pietro is declared leader Magneto starts chafing at him despite him getting involved in the first place to try support his son for once.

I thought what you said about the siblings relationships were interesting loved what you said as the explanation for Lorna wanting Pietro to come support her and it's fitting these people are trying to form a sibling bond as adults and that's not easy considering the very different lives they lead and histories with the parent they share. However, I always felt that Lorna had a deeper and more solid bond with Pietro than Wanda. They were friends in Xfactor before they knew they were siblings and spent time working together on Genosha with Pietro comforting her and looking out for her. Similarly she often worked with and mostly spoke to Pietro in HoM and ofc we saw him reach out to her and the two siblings work to build that bond in ANXF. It actually was quite sweet and she had his back. But yes I can see her chafe against his protectiveness a lot whereas Wanda gets it and is as protective as Pietro just in a quieter way.

The twins and their whole codependency is probably not an easy thing for Lorna to navigate I feel like it could be quite isolating for her knowing they'll chose eachother first and foremost and Wanda already has done. You've touched on it with Wanda abandoning the team once Pietro is almost killed and it was so interesting cause she acknowledges it wasn't just about "choosing Pietro over Lorna, she chose herself over Lorna too" and tell me more about that! We got some interesting snippets in the third story were Wanda gets annoyed Pietro doesnt "consult her first about involving himself in mutant politics" and Pietro calls her his "better half". Is this codependency something you're keen to explore? It has some toxic elements but all in all I think there's more good in bad with it. The twins had to be each others everything for a long while - twin, parent, friend, protector, supporter etc and you can never just unravel that.

As for Wanda and Lorna yeah it makes sense they have the most normal relationship but the sister never really built that close bond in cannon. It went from them being estranged and Wanda only really reaching out to Lorna once Pietro chose to stay in Xfactor with Lorna over joining the unity squad with her. Lorna for her part still held a lot of bitterness over Mday (I wish in cannon it was acknowledged that Wanda depowered all three members of her immediate family and it made them spiral. Magneto deserved it but her siblings didn't and she's the big sister. I think her trying to atone to them and being confronted for it by then would have been more interesting than her just atoning for it to mutants in general. I can't see Magneto and Pietro confronting her on it but Lorna would) then they don't interact for several years and we get ToM and theyre suddenly fluffy sisters and Lorna is just there to support Wanda. Love the idea of sisters building a bond but cannon definitely feels very superficial and unearned in a way Pietro and Lorna's doesn't like theyre playing at being sisters and trying to have a normal relationship because that's what they both desperately need but when it came down to it neither sister could open up about their father's death to each other despite wanting to and it shows they have a really long way to go! This is an issue with the 616 verse and not yours I love you showing Wanda's protective side and actually focusing on these relationships. Poor Lorna and Pietro get very ignored by Marvel in general so seeing you give them love here is great.

Omg LornaTerry I can't wait! I actually thought you were hinting at something between Terry and Pietro first but their friendship is so cute why mess with it! They both need more friends. LornaTerry is very hot though and I'm a big fan of Pietros current cannon relationship with Monet (it's more potential at this point and we're missing people reacting to the absolute insanity of Pietro Maximoff and Monet St Croix, two of Marvels bitchyest characters together. Marvel will probably drop it like they do most new romances but it lives rent free in my head lololol)

Sorry for the long ramble - I am always keen to discuss my favourite characters. keep up the good work!

I'm a bug fan of your Revenant series! It's such a cool team 😁

One thing that struck me was that on learning the shadow king was back Lorna specifically asked for her brother and shot down seeing her father. She was even reluctant to tell Wanda what was happening until Pietro convinced her.

What was going on in her head at that moment and how do you feel about her respective relationships with her father and siblings (In the story and in cannon)

YESSSSSSSS I’ve been waiting for someone to ask this 🥰🥰🥰also thank you so much for enjoying Revenant, I have literally so much more of it to write (you have no idea this has gotten way out of control, this entire AU was created for a silly oneshot TerryLorna idea I had and I am STILL NOT EVEN AT A PLACE WHERE I CAN WRITE THE TERRYLORNA)....anyway this is about to be word vomit bc I have a LOT of thoughts

Okay so one of the big things here is that Lorna and Pietro have both had pivotal moments in their stories where they were mind controlled and made to do things that hurt people they cared about and neither of them really ever got a whole lot of support in recovering from that. And Pietro is, for all his faults, incredibly protective and incredibly loving of his sisters and while Lorna has spent a LOT of time pushing back against that protectiveness because she really and truly can handle herself and she and Pietro don't have that kind of history where he's seen her almost burned at the stake etc etc.... this is a moment where she wants someone to be ride or die in her corner and to be ride or die in her corner after it's all said and done even if she is controlled again...... and Pietro's fatal flaw is loyalty. She wanted someone who would come in and try to make it better even though there was nothing they could do, and she knew that if she called Pietro would come running. It's more an act of desperation than of familial love? But it's something that's really going to set the stage as the story progresses for how their relationship is going to evolve. We also know that Lorna is very afraid of seeming weak in front of her father- he has these grand expectations of her and when she doesn't meet his impossible standards she cracks under that weight and for as much as I love Erik and as much as I appreciate the steps he's taken to repair his relationship with her, being his daughter is not easy. And with Wanda, they arguably have the easier relationship within this group of siblings, where it really has become more genuinely sisterly and almost...dare I say? normal? But Wanda isn't really involved in X-Men stuff and hasn't really been to any grand extent barring her intro and M-Day (and much more recently Trial of Magneto)- her very presence on Krakoa is enough to inspire hatred and anger, with the Shadow King there Wanda as a first choice is probably not smart, and Wanda herself has so much baggage with mutantkind thanks to M-Day that it puts her in a weird position too.

I'm playing a lot with Wanda, Lorna, and Pietro's relationships with each other and with their father. I feel like Pietro is very underutilized and that he's not taken seriously by writers or by fans and so I really wanted to build on this Lorna-Pietro relationship that was starting to get established in All New X-Factor and to really kind of I guess force my readers to remember that Pietro isn't a bad guy? Which sounds stupid bc he's a hero but like people don't read for Pietro and take wildly ooc shit as fact. Like it's important to me that my readers know that it was Pietro who pushed for he and Wanda to leave the Brotherhood, and that Pietro tries so so so hard for his family and just wants to keep his sisters and daughter safe and that like he is a victim of much of the same trauma as Wanda and he's allowed to have responses to it without being whiny or having to get over it (no matter what Wanda said in Quicksilver: No Surrender).

But yeah, I have lots of Revenant thoughts, and feel free to dm me or send me asks about it anytime I love talking about it!

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Headlights Girl

Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance

Words: approx. 8k

Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.

My book 🌸 Ko-fi  🌸 Patreon

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

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.

Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!

But she wasn’t talking to me. 

School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.

Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.

I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.

Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.

Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.

Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.

I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.

It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.

I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.

I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it. 

I hated those dreams.

I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.

“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”

“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”

I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here.”

I didn’t know why I was chosen.

Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.

I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.

“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.

I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.

I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.

I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.

Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.

Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.

I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.

That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.

I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.

A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.

------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.

It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.

Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?

I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.

Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost. 

No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”

I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.

There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”

“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.

“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.

“What?”

“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.

I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl? 

I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.

I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”

I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”

I shrugged. “Not today.”

“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”

I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.

“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”

“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.

“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”

“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.

“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”

I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”

“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”

I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.

“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”

There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.

The door dinged instead.

“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.

Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.

Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.

I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.

I think she recognized me too.

We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.

She cleared her throat first.

“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”

The door was right there.

“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.

“A tattoo?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.

“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.

“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”

A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”

“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was fine,” I corrected.

“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.

“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.

I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.

The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”

“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.

“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------

The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.

Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.

“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.

“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.

“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.

“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”

“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”

I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”

“Any of them come visit?”

“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”

“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”

“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”

“You like poetry.”

I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”

“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.

I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”

Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”

“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”

“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.”

I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.

I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”

Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.

I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.

I barely looked over.

The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.

“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.

“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”

“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”

“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”

“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.

“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”

“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.

“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”

“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”

She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”

“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”

“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”

She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.

“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.

“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.

“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.

“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”

“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”

“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.

“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.

“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”

“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”

“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”

I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”

She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”

“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”

“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.

“Drink up.”

It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.

I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.

I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.

Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.

I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.

“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.

This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.

“I’m looking.” I said carefully.

“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.

“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.

“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”

“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”

“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”

I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.

“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”

She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.

I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.

“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.

I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”

“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”

“So pushy.”

“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.

I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.

It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.

I was the one that scooted a little closer.

“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”

I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”

“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.

“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”

“A storm cloud butterfly?”

“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”

I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.

“Why?” I rasped after a moment.

“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”

“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.

She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.

“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”

“You got money for that?”

“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”

“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.

“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”

“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”

“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”

“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”

“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”

“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.

I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”

“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”

“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”

“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.

“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.

“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own. 

“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”

“In the butterfly?”

“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”

“What did you want to be?” Soft.

“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”

Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.

I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.

But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.

“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.

“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”

I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.

“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”

Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”

“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.

“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”

I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”

“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.

“No.”

“I wasn’t thinking . . .”

Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”

“Okay?”

“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”

“Daft Jeff. Yes.”

“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”

“Alright . . .”

“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”

I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”

“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”

“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.

“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”

I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?

She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”

“My parents aren’t the weather.”

“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”

I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.

“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”

“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”

The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------

It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.

I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.

“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.

“Yeah?”

“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”

“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”

“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”

“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.

“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.

“Do you know what they say about moths?”

“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”

“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom’s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”

“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”

“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.

“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”

A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”

I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”

“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”

“Yeah, those were her exact words.”

“So?”

“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”

“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.

“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.

“Why?”

“Because they follow the light.”

It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.

I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.

I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.

The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.

A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.

“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”

“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”

“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.

“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”

I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.

I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.

-----------

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[bigassheart]

I’ve seen a couple posts about how everyone was wildly out of character and totally inconsistent this season and I’m just like... were you guys paying attention? 

1. Luther

Arguably the biggest shift in character between the two seasons, but it makes sense. Luther spent a year fending for himself and thinking his entire family was dead. 

This is the first time in his life that he had to hold down a job and actually live on his own. It was literally his first time living out in the world among anyone other than his family, and you can see in his reactions with the other characters from that life (the boss, his landlord, those kids that idolize him, and the waitress) that it has really mellowed him out. It has allowed him to be more normal, despite being very much not normal. You can see the way he’s so much more comfortable in his skin. Literally the only times he looks uncomfortable is when he’s fighting people, shirt off and body on full display. He’s still not comfortable with that, but he’s not trying to hide under huge overcoats anymore. He has people in his life who accept him for being a little weird, but really do treat him normal. 

So is he a little less uptight and mission focused? Yeah. Because he can finally see another life, and it’s the life that he honestly did want in season 1 but felt like he couldn’t have because he was number 1 and he had a responsibility to his dad, his family, and the academy to be the leader. Having a year on his own frees him of all that. 

But he also spent all that time thinking his family was dead and feeling so guilty about it. You can see in his very first interaction with Vanya, where he suddenly feels that responsibility again. He brings a gun, not knowing what’s going to happen and, despite what he told Five, he absolutely does still have that lingering feeling of responsibility. But then he sees Vanya and she’s not a threat and everything he has been holding in for the last year comes out. Because he does feel guilty as hell for what he did to Vanya, but also for the fact that his actions pushed her into causing the apocalypse. He spent a year with the knowledge that he did that and thinking that his family was dead because of his actions. 

He’s willing to listen now because he spent a year living in a world where his actions killed his whole family. And now he finds out that that didn’t happen and he has a second chance. Of course he’s going to take it! 

2. Diego

In the first season, Diego finally admitted that he wanted to be close to his family and that he cared about them and wouldn’t leave them again. He confronted the guilt about leaving, which he had previously denied. He realized the difference between revenge and honoring someone’s memory. But despite all that, he never confronted the reason why he, a grown-ass-man, wandered around the city as a leather clad, mask wearing vigilante. 

So when we see Diego show up in 1963, that’s still who he is. He wants to be that hero and he finds an answer for how to be that hero in the first several minutes that he’s there. So he takes it. I mean, what else is he going to do? His family is gone. Maybe they’ll show up again. Maybe this is it. Either way, he’s on his own like he was before, so he’s got a duty to be the hero he has chosen to be. 

And then he meets his dad again. Everyone keeps telling him he has daddy issues, and they’re right. He absolutely has daddy issues. He’s still trying to simultaneously prove that he’s good enough for his dad, but also doesn’t need Daddy’s approval. Except he does need it. He still desperately craves it and he feels gutted when his dad denies him that approval, even falling back into the stutter he had as a kid. 

Now, despite the way we joke, Diego is not dumb. He is so observant and he makes some of the most poignant statements about his siblings and the way they see the world. He sees the people around them and he understands them, but he has never been able to completely turn that gift inwards and see those same things in himself. In this season, Lila breaks through all that and he finally sees himself in her at the end. 

“Do you know how hard it is to trust people when your whole childhood was bullshit manipulation? Then why would you do that to me?”  

Diego sees himself in Lila, in her failure to break away from her mother despite the fact that he knows she wants to. In the final episode, he sees that she is just like the rest of the siblings, but she doesn’t have to be. None of them have to be stuck with their daddy issues, because they have each other. They can support and care for each other. It’s the last step of the growth he started in season 1, moving beyond his tendency to define his life and his family through their father. 

3. Allison

Throughout season 1, Allison struggled with whether or not to use her powers, but it was all centered around getting back to her daughter. When she appears in 1961, that motivation is effectively removed. She thinks everyone else is dead. She thinks that she is stranded in the past and that she will never get back. She finds a group of people to support her and before long... she finds her voice again. 

It’s no coincidence that Allison’s first spoken words in the series come right after she gives Ray that pamphlet with a bunch of added notes. She finds her voice in the civil rights movement. She finds her power there. She finds a way to help change the world, to change reality, and she does it without her powers. 

This is something she struggled with through the entirety of season 1, feeling inadequate for using her powers to get what she wanted, not knowing if anything was real or earned. Now she has the chance to earn everything without those powers and she is thriving. 

And then she is forced to use her powers again. It all turns out fine, but now she’s showing off and experiencing all over again how good it feels to have power. She spent two years in a world where she was denied equal treatment, where she could be arrested and assaulted for any reason those with more power came up with. And now she feels that power... She doesn’t have to wait for people to give her respect. She can demand it. But the pain is still there, and it’s not enough to just be respected, because these people have hurt her. They almost killed her husband. They have used their power to cause pain to her and all those who look like her time and time again and now it’s time to understand what it’s like to be powerless, to be hurt and to be unable to stop it and... 

And it’s scary. It’s scary to have that much power, to see how you could become the kind of person who uses your power to hurt others. And she knows that her power has hurt people she loves and suddenly she’s right back where she started. 

Only not entirely. 

She doesn’t shy away from her powers in the final fight. She is obviously still finding that balance and I would expect this struggle to continue for her in future seasons. Power can be addicting and Allison’s power is so strong. She knows the danger there, but she also knows that sometimes it’s needed despite the danger. 

4. Klaus

Klaus is an addict. He finds obsessions to bury himself in to avoid dealing with reality. In season 1, he buried himself in drugs and booze. When he shows up in the 60′s, he finds a new drug to bury himself in: adoration. 

Klaus is so impulsive and it’s not difficult to connect the dots of how one thing leads to another until suddenly everything is out of his control. Honestly, that’s the story of Klaus’s life, no matter where he goes. And then something changes. He gets tired of his cult and leaves. Except... that’s not really the reason. 

After all this time, Dave is still the love of his life, and he knows he has an opportunity. He knows where Dave will be at this one time and he knows exactly what he has to change to keep Dave alive. 

He also knows that Ben is going to have thoughts about this. 

I know some people were disappointed that there wasn’t more Klaus and Ben bonding this season, but it makes sense that there is tension there. I think a lot of that tension comes from Ben’s circumstances, which I’ll discuss later, but Klaus is also not responding to that tension well. 

They are fighting more than ever (not that they ever didn’t fight in season 1, where they spent much of their time being snarky to each other and Ben literally punching Klaus in the face for being an asshole), but the fighting is about something new this season. Ben wants his own life and Klaus is not in a position to give Ben what he really wants. We also learn that he has been carrying around this guilt for the last 17 years about forcing Ben to stick around as a ghost. He forced this half-life on his brother and now that it’s not enough for Ben, Klaus doesn’t want to deal with it. So he avoids and deflects and snarks and we see the toll on their relationship. We see it in the way he tries to deal with his plans around Dave entirely on his own. He focuses so much into that last ditch effort. He’s already in such a low place before this, so when that fails, we see him snap. We see him give up and crumble. And Ben falls back to his old role, trying to save Klaus from himself. 

But the tension isn’t gone and Klaus’s guilt isn’t gone. We see it again when Klaus finally agrees to let Ben possess him. Klaus has always been afraid of his powers and being possessed is just as terrifying a thought as being surrounded by the dead. And yet he gives Ben that chance. It’s the last good thing he can do at that point. 

I do wish we had gotten more closure for Klaus and Ben’s story. I think Vanya’s reveal could have been given a little more time, but that’s not really a problem with inconsistent characterization, so we’ll save that for another post. 

5. Five

OK, who would argue that Five was out of character or inconsistent? He’s obsessed with stopping the apocalypse, is willing to cross a lot of lines to save his family, and constantly frustrated by his family’s failure to go along with his plans. This is textbook Five. 

What I loved about this season was that we got to see Five finally meeting his father again. They interact as two adults, not as a child trying to find away to become his own person, frustrated by a lack of trust from his father. It allows Reggie to see Five in a different light and to actually provide advice in a constructive way, something he has almost never been able to do when viewing them as his children. But despite outward appearances and despite the fact that Five is a grown man, he still sees his father the same way he always has. He doesn’t register Reggie’s advice as advice. He hears that he’s striving beyond his abilities and that maybe he can only travel in seconds. He hears his father telling him he can’t handle time travel. That’s why he doesn’t try to actually take the very good advice until the very end.  

An old dog can still occasionally learn a new trick and Five proves that true. 

6. Ben

As I mentioned earlier, Ben is chaffing at his ghosthood. Maybe it’s because Klaus has been sober enough to keep Ben around solidly for 3 years. Maybe it’s because Ben is no longer spending all his time trying to keep Klaus alive and sober. Or maybe it’s the fact that he has finally found someone that he actually wants to spend time with. Whatever the reason, Ben wants to be alive this season. 

Again, as I mentioned, that’s causing some tension. Ben doesn’t want to be tied to Klaus, but Klaus is ignoring that because he feels so guilty about it. Ben doesn’t want to admit that he was too scared to go into the light on his own, so they’re at a bit of a standstill. 

And then Ben gets the opportunity to be alive again, if only for a while. And in a lot of ways, it’s wonderful! But it’s not the same as being truly alive. 

So when the time comes, when he’s faced with that light again... he’s not afraid. He knows that it’s time to move on. He knows this isn’t where he should be, but he also got the chance to be there for his family. He misses them, but he got to talk to Diego and Vanya. He got to save Vanya. He got to save Allison and Diego and Klaus and Luther and Five and the whole world! So while he would have stayed, he’s not sad about leaving anymore, and he’s not afraid. 

7. Vanya

OK, she was a little out of character because... you know. She had amnesia. 

But aside from erasing her past, the amnesia allowed us to see Vanya without the anger and resentment that plagued her for all of season one. Vanya was always someone who was kind and loving, someone who cares enough to leave peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches out for a missing brother for years. Someone who knows the pain of not being seen and who will always take the time to truly see other people. She’s someone who wants to love and to be loved and to protect those she loves. 

That was all here, with or without the memories. And as soon as the memories came back, so did the guilt and fear about what she had done, what she had become, terrified of what was inside her in a way that she was not when her powers first surfaced. But Ben is used to being afraid of what’s inside of him. He knows she’s not a monster and is the perfect person to explain that to her. And this time around, she has experienced the love and care and attention of her siblings (and Sissy) to back up those words. That’s how she finally accepts them as truth, how she finally accepts her power as a part of her. 

Overall, there are things that I wish this season spent more time with, but there was nothing that I felt was out of character or wildly inconsistent. The characters still struggled with all the baggage from their shitty childhood, their fear of their powers, and the guilt in their past. Some struggled in new ways this season and some continued old struggles that had never fully been resolved. The season felt very different than the first, but it still felt like the Umbrella Academy. It was a good mix of new and old and a good mix of feel-good moments we have all been waiting for and frustrating and sad moments that just come with having a complicated family. I loved this season. And now, I’m going to go re-watch every episode. 

[oenimo]

I don't know if this counts for "gen ascendancy", because I realized only after writing that neither Un'hee or Eli show up in the Ascendancy books, but uhhhhhh have some father daughter bonding.

There's light Thranto, but Thrawn doesn't actually show up it's just like "dads" and it's "their" house, etc.

“Eli?”

The small voice surprised him, and he looked up from his questises. Thunhe, standing the doorway, looking meek, was the culprit.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

Even in the dark, he could tell she blushed a bit at the old term of endearment. She was a midager now, and had long started to tell him to cut it with the pet names. But when she was going to come to him in the middle of night, holding an old stuffed animal to her chest… he was going to go full in on the reassuring affection.

“I… I had a nightmare.”

Instantly, he put down the questis. Work could wait–technically, it should’ve already been put aside hours ago.

“Hey, alright. It’s okay. Do you want to stay here, or?”

One of her hands clenched around the plushie in her arms. “I… can you just come put me back to sleep? I know it’s stupid, but–”

“Hey. It’s not stupid.” He got to his feet, stretching with a few creaks and pops as he did, before heading over to meet her in the doorway. It wasn’t far between his and Thrawn's home office and her room, and soon he was tucking her back into the blankets, and brushing a stray blue hair out of her face.

“There. Safe and sound. Need anything else?”

She avoided his gaze, but nodded.

He gave it a minute, but… “Thunhe, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re looking for here, I can’t read your mind,” he said with a small chuckle.

She bit her lip. “Can–Can you stay? I just– I don’t want to be alone again, I don’t want to–” She took in a shuddering breath, and Eli felt his heart cracking.

“Of course, Thunhe.” Mentally, he did a quick check of his current clothes. He didn’t want to leave her to go change if she was this rattled. Luckily, he was in decently comfortable enough clothing. “Alright, scooch over so I can fit.”

Chuckling wetly, she scooched to one side of the bed, pulling her stuffed nightdragon closer to her chest. Eli pulled the covers over a bit, and relaxed back against the headboard.

It wasn’t long before his teenager had given up all pretense of aloofness, and instead curled into his side. Curled into the fetal position, with her arms tightly hugging her dragon and her head buried against him and the plushie’s soft fabric, he could almost see her transform back into the tiny malnourished and traumatized girl he’d first met years ago.

He let his arm drift into a soft curl around her shoulder, and rested his head against the propped-up pillows. He’d almost certainly have a crick in his everything when he woke up (stupid aging body), but he wasn’t going to risk waking his baby up.

He looked down at his daughter one more time, and wished he could get a picture of it. It was so rare nowadays that she left herself be his kid, let herself really and completely seek assurance from her dads. And she just looked so sweet.

Wait. He had a holocomm in his pocket.

Trying his best not to jostle her, he snuck his other hand into his pocket, and pulled out the holocomm. With the quick press of a button, he had the photo, and he sent it to his (main) personal questis. A second later, it was on its way to Thrawn as well, a sweet little surprise for him whenever he got off shift on the Patience.

And with that, he returned the comm to his pocket, rested his head further back against the pillows, and drifted off to sleep too.