#cause for years i believed that if i could just learn more tips and tricks

[casual-eumetazoa]

I feel like people have also pushed the social model of disability as the only valid model for explaining autism so much that it became just straight up misinformation. Like, listening to some autistic people on tiktok, it's like you can accommodate autism to such an extent that it stops being a disability or even a problem whatsoever. And maybe for some specific combination of traits this is true, but my guess is that it's quite rare. For most people who meet the current diagnostic criteria, autism would disable them in any context, especially since it is almost always comorbid with at least one other thing if not multiple, such as anxiety, depression, PTSD, connective tissue disorders, epilepsy, ADHD, intellectual disability, dyslexia/dyscalculia/dyspraxia, auditory processing disorder... the list goes on.

Point is, of course accommodations, support, and a good environment can eliminate a lot of negative aspects of autism - but most autistic people are disabled by our neurotype and it cannot be accommodated out of existence. Accommodations can drastically improve our quality of life, but not make us function on the exact same level as neurotypical people. And because activist circles and tiktok and so on have an overrepresentation of people whose combination of traits allows them to function on a relatively normative level, people forget just how many struggles you can have, even as a low support person. Like some people think that needing help with filing paperwork or keeping your house clean is high support. That's not even mid support imho, that's something the vast majority of low support autistic people would benefit from. I'm mid support and I need help with tying my shoelaces and preparing simple meals - and I have a master's degree and no learning/intellectual disabilities.

Two things can be true at once. Yes, autism is a natural variation of brain types and we deserve the same rights and dignity as everyone else. Many of us would not want to be "cured" of autism and it is a part of us. Also, yes, it disables us, and limits our functioning, and can be (and is, for many people), a very negative experience, especially in the current world. It's not either or, it's not black or white. It is a complex neurodevelopmental difference that doesn't just boil down to being sensitive and passionate. And it does suck sometimes, maybe even a lot of times. Abled people should learn to respect us and our wishes and needs without either comparing autism to cancer or sugarcoating our experiences.

the way people online talk about autism is getting really weird, like do they know that neurotypicals still have interests? that someone being passionate about a hobby doesn't mean they're autistic? you guys know that right

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 8, Part 1 ("The Inns and Outs of Inns")

I'm skipping past the second half of the previous episode (I really couldn't think of anything interesting to say about it. It was that whole thing where Rory and Paris get initated into The Puffs, and the Mother/Daughter Fashion Show). You can read my previous reviews here.

This lady held out her cup for a refill. Jess looks down at the mug and walks right past her. I found his terrible customer service inexplicably delightful. I'd say she was gonna stiff him out of a tip for that move, but no one in Stars Hollow tips anyway.

Jess: It's 7:45 am, do you want me to go to school or openly defy child labor laws? Idk, I think you should have a word with the Walmart corporation first, the place hired a 17 year old to drive a forklift during school hours. Luke: Stay out of trouble. Jess: Guess that means calling off the chickie run down at the salt flats. What in the everliving hell does that even mean? What teenager talks like that in 2001, the Year of our Lord? Damn you, AmyShermanPalladino. *sighs deeply*. *Opens Google* "A chickie run is a high-speed drag race toward the edge of a steep bluff above the ocean using stolen cars." It's apparently a reference to the movie Rebel Without A Cause with James Dean. Well, I learned some pointless new information today. Thank you, Mr Mariano. You may not serve customers their coffee but you do serve up hot steaming cups of old timey references. Lorelai and Sookie: We're coming up with names for the new inn. Michel: How about the Money Pit? The Outhouse? The Inn Headed for Bankruptcy?

Heh heh.

I only recall seeing a police car in Stars Hollow two other times (when Kyle's party got busted up and the time Jess comes back in season 4 and gets pulled over? Am I forgetting anything?). Here's the big emergency that called the mythical, rarely seen Stars Hollow Police into town. Spoiler alert: It was some chalk.

And now this pathetic town of bored people with nothing better to do are going to call an emergency meeting over some chalk. Taylor is fa-reaking the fuck out.

Taylor: I've got a dead body outside of my store! Sheriff: No, you have a chalk outline in front of your store.

Sheriff: My partner's out doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then, just hang tight. Let me remind you how many people live in Stars Hollow. Sometimes it may seem like you only see the same 15 people over and over, but the mind can play dirty tricks on you.

Yes Taylor, just hang tight for a few minutes while one police officer does a head count of nearly 10,000 people. A police officer going around counting people to see if anyone happens to be dead is one of my favorite bits of absurdity in the entire show. 30 seconds later:

Golly that was fast!

Heh heh heh. It is a pretty stupid prank. I think most of Jess' pranks are amateur at best. I believe in his potential. He could come up with something way better. The people of Stars Hollow deserved to be Punk'd for how they treat him. I give this one an A though, because it pissed everyone off so thoroughly, and that's all that matters.

Gilmore Girls wardrobe department: LAYERS! MORE LAYERS, DAMN IT! Wardrobe Assistant: He's in a shirt under a shirt under a vest! I cannot layer anymore! *cries*

Sooo purdy.

Luke jamming a screwdriver into a toaster is highly erotic.

It goes without saying that from here on out we are going to be pausing often to admire screen shots of Jess with absolutely no context. Tomatos Sign: Spotted

Oh, we haven't gotten to the part where Jess murders Shane and dumps her body in the lake. We'll get to that in season 3. In my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow, there could be several justified homicides. For one example, it's canon that Luke never throws Taylor off a bridge, so my reboot would seek to correct this.

HE'S JUST A LITTLE GUY LET HIM SULK AND LURK What the hell else is there to do in Stars Hollow anyway? The image of Jess of visiting an arts and crafts store is pretty hilarious.

What the hell is AmyShermanPalladino's obsession with swans? "Swans scream one thing, Mom. Sigfried and Roy." Ah yes, another fine early 2000's tasteless "gay" insult. Luke & Lorelai are discussing the grave consequences of missing or even being late to a town meeting. To which I say, if Taylor threatens you, just tell him you're gonna squeal to the Feds about all of his shady financial crimes. That'll shut him right up.

He's been in town for like what, a week and he's already a "situation". I think that's awesome. Your mere existence on this Earth is so powerful that you've thrown an entire community into disarray. Good for you, baby. Good for you.

May I remind you again they are calling this community meeting because of some chalk. "When Mrs. Lanahan couldn't buy lettuce from my store, she drove straight to Woodbury instead." You know what, I just gotta bide my time and let the nutcase rant, because Walmart will eventually drive him out of business for good and in a double scoop of justice, I have faith that he'll also be taken down for his money laundering crimes.

This committee of 85 year olds will seal Jess Mariano's fate. It looks like Hell's waiting room. Jess loves a good town meeting because it's the only time he gets to stay home and whack off in private. Luke tries to give Taylor $1 for a head of letuce (actually, first he asks "how much is a head of lettuce?" which is something he should know if he's running a diner, but I digress. "The CHARGES against your nephew are numerous!" Let's hear them, shall we? He stole the "Save the Bridge" money. But Taylor was going to launder that money, what will he do now? He stole a gnome from Babette's garden. He "hooted" one Miss Patty's dance classes. Please try to imagine Jess ever "hooting" a woman (uhh, she means catcalling...I guess? I could see him calling out some sarcastic quip/witty observation though. He took a garden hose. Why Jess? Why? How did they know he did it? What did he intend to do with it? Where did he keep it? With the 500 baseballs he stole from the school? He set off the fire alarms at school last week. This is a more serious prank that would have gotten him in big trouble if he was caught. And again, Lane and Dean go to this school. Hello? I know at this point Jess and Rory don't know each other well, but that's still major gossip, so why are Rory's boyfriend and best friend always keeping this stuff from her? I am Jess Mariano's defense lawyer and every last thing my client does to annoy the citizens of Stars Hollow is justified. Lorelai, sarcastically: I heard he controls the weather and wrote the screenplay to Glitter** (**a movie starring Mariah Carey that came out in 2001 and is regarded as one of the worst movies of all time and was a box office bomb and possibly the biggest blight ever on MC’s career). You know, Lorelai is being sarcastic by saying she thinks Jess controls the weather but she hates him so much I wouldn't put it past her that she actually believes that. I mean, she already believes that the sun shines out of Dean Forrester's ass. Bootsy: I never like the look of that kid, I knew he was bad as soon as I saw him. AGAIN HE'S BEEN HERE FOR LIKE A WEEK. The subject of the meeting turns from Jess to piling onto Luke for no good reason, and my man Lucas is just about to burst a blood vessel defending himself and Jess from these nutjobs. I honestly couldn't love him more. He's so REAL. Please don't stroke out on us, we need you. Taylor: "There is a consensus among all the towns people that Stars Hollow was a much better place before Jess got here." Kindly go to hell, Taylor Doose.

Dean spending two days on his hands and knees scraping Jess' prank from cement is a beautiful kind of justice. Edit: A commenter made me wonder how Jess made his artwork stick to the cement. Off to Google I went once again. Apparently you can use hairspray to set chalk art, but professional chalk artists use high grade varnishes to set their designs. Jess never half-asses anything. He puts his whole, cute little ass in. You also have to wonder how in a town full of unemployed busy bodies with nothing better to do than notice everything that goes on in town right down to when Rory Gilmore farts, not a single person heard or saw any of this happening. Lorelai fretting that the Independence will be sold to a corporate hotel chain is realistic and it would inevitably happen in my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow. The Independence Inn would become a Holiday Inn, Luke's would become a Starbucks, Doose's would become a Walmart, and Dean Forrester's house would be a parking lot after a meteor crashed through the roof.

Someone should bash your head in with a safe.

Never in the history of mankind has a single individual sown so much havoc with a single stick of chalk.

Every time I look at that wool jacket lining I feel super itchy.

The captions should really say "okuh", and not "okay." Because that was a stellar "okuh". Get it right. Just another injustice perpetuated against Jesstopher Mariano.

Oh, she did. To be continued in Part 2 so I can add more screen shots.

[maximons]

Tricks And Treats

Summary: Pietro tries to get Wanda and Y/n to finally admit their feelings for each other and takes them to a haunted house. Too bad Wanda is a full on scaredy cat...or is that exactly what is needed?

Word Count: 2,915

Genre: Fluff

Requested?: Yes

A/N: Finally back with the Fluff! Here’s that one shot I promised like a week ago lmao Happy Reading!

Halloween was for sure your favorite holiday.

You knew you were in the minority with that thought, seeing most people picked Christmas as their favorite, but you didn’t care. You always loved the time of year that came with Halloween, your birthday fell pretty close to it, you get to dress up and pretend to be someone else for a day, and it’s full on spooky season! What wasn’t there to love?

Well apparently a lot, at least according to your best friend Wanda.

For someone who’s a witch, you find it very funny that she doesn’t like the holiday.

You first met Wanda during the whole Ultron situation, back then she took on a more ‘emo’ appearance. Don’t tell anyone you said this, but you wouldn’t mind if she adopted the look again cause damn, so you just assumed Halloween and all things spooky would be for her, right?

Wrong.

You quickly learned that Wanda was not a fan of scary. You remember asking her to go see this new horror movie with you, it was your first time hanging out alone together and you just figured it’d be something she was into.

By the end of the movie, her face was buried in her knees, and she didn’t believe you when you told her the movie was over. The poor teenager working the theater was pretty annoyed with you both.

Needless to say, you didn’t bother her about anything spooky related again.

So when Pietro came to you two asking if you wanted to go to the new haunted house in town, you were beyond shocked that she agreed without a second thought.

“Uh, Wanda are you sure?” You asked, very hesitant. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a haunted house before, but-”

“I know what they are, Y/n.” Wanda cut you off before you finished, seeming very enthused, which confused you more. “I think it’ll be really cool!”

“Yeah...Wands, I know this group. This isn’t your typical ‘few scary decorations with the occasional light jump scare’ thing. These guys are intense.” You tried again. You didn’t know what had gotten into the witch, but you were sure she was making a mistake here.

“Y/n/n, relax. I’m not a child, I can handle myself. Trust me, okay? It’ll be great!” The bright smile on Wanda’s face was always a sight you welcomed, but it confused you in the moment. Still, you knew once her mind was set on something...let’s just say it’d be easier to find all the infinity stones than to talk her out of it.

“Alright, if you say so.” You shrugged, deciding it was best to drop the topic. Besides, she was right, Wanda’s a grown woman who can make her own choices. You just get to wait to be able to tell her that her choice was a stupid one. “So Friday night?” You asked Pietro, who nodded excitedly.

“Friday night!” He confirmed.

“Okay, cool.” You took another quick sip of your morning coffee before setting your mug down. “I gotta get ready for training. So happy to be working with Steve today instead of Nat, he’s always a walk in the park.” You said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. “Wish me luck.” 

The twins wished you luck as you left the room to go get ready. After they were sure you were out of earshot, the witch turned to her brother. “This is your plan? Are you crazy?”

“I know, I know, but trust me, okay?” He reassured, walking to the fridge to grab himself a drink. “Y/n loves this stuff, and as she is the love of your life-”

“Whoa, whoa, I-I never said-”

“-You should experience the things that she loves to do.” Pietro finished, ignoring his sister’s intervention. “I’ll do my best to stay out of your guys’ way, and you have the whole evening to yourselves. Sounds perfect to me.”

“Yeah, until I act like a complete, how do they say, ‘spaz’ around her again.” Wanda sighed, leaning on the kitchen counter in defeat.

“You won’t. You know what kind of things to expect now. And if you do freak out, all the more reason to be by her side. She will protect you.”

Wanda looked at her brother in confusion. “I can protect my self.”

Pietro rolled his eyes playfully. “Not what I meant. You will see, sestra.”

Friday night came before you know it, and you, Wanda and Pietro were waiting in the line to buy your tickets to enter.

“Holy shit, this is a long line.” Pietro complained, causing you to chuckle.

“Not surprising. It’s the week before Halloween, weather’s nice, and this group doesn’t come to New York a whole lot. More surprised it isn’t longer actually.” You shrugged.

“Why don’t they come to New York? I thought this was one of America’s more popular states?” Wanda asked.

“It is, but ever since Loki invaded and our merry band of misfits formed, tourism and things like this have been down a whole lot.” You leaned down to get closer to Wanda’s ear. “I guess we’ve been the scary ones all along.” You joked, but Wanda was more focused on trying to calm down and forget the feeling of your breath against her ear.

“Everything alright there, Wanda?” Pietro asked after a moment, teasing smirk on his face. Before Wanda could even fire back, a voice from in front of you spoke up.

“No way! You guys are Avengers!” The group in front of you turned around, one of the guys recognized you instantly.

“Uh, yes...we are.” Wanda awkwardly stated. You knew Wanda hated fan interactions, and to be honest you weren’t a fan of these situations either. They were unpredictable. The Avengers were either beloved or despised, and you’ve been on both ends of the reaction spectrum. Wanda and Pietro, unfortunately, have seen a lot more animosity than you and the others.

Honestly, you couldn’t even fault the ones that didn’t love you guys. You weren’t ignorant and knew your battles have caused a lot of problems for a lot of people. You could sympathize, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be on the receiving end of that anger. Especially not when you were trying to just have a fun night out with your friends. “Look guys, we’re really just here to have a good time. We don’t wanna cause a scene.” You said.

“Nah, nah, it’s cool. I think you guys are awesome!” The guy said, and it was clear to you then that the dude was baked out of his mind. “Especially you, with the red wiggly woos!” He pointed to Wanda as he gave a terrible impression of her hand movements. You smiled, happy to see a fan interaction go well for Wanda.

The joy you felt didn’t last long though, as another guy in the group turned to you, blunt in his hand. “Hey, you’re the fire one right? Can you do me a solid?” He gestured to you, asking you to give him a light. You sighed, the twins chuckling at the situation.

“Yeah, but don’t ask again.” You ignited the tip of your finger, gently placing it on the end of the blunt. The group turned around in line and continued to go about their own conversation. You felt Wanda elbow your side, and you turned to see a smirk on her face. When you heard Pietro’s snicker, you groaned.

“Shut up.”

“Look at you, helping delinquents. Aren’t you supposed to be a superhero? Bringer of justice and all of that?” Wanda teased and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Yeah, but I’m the fun one. It’s just weed.” You said confidently, but the witch saw through it and you dropped the act. “And the last time that happened and I said no, the dude burst into tears.” You said under your breath.

“There it is.” She smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back despite you being the subject of mockery. You loved seeing her smile, you didn’t care about the reason why.

Before you knew it, Pietro announced that you guys were next in line to buy tickets. He bought his and stepped aside so you can go next. “Hi, two please.” Wanda turned to you with her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Wha- Y/n, I can afford it.” She chuckled nervously, flattered by the action.

“I know, but when I have to drag you out of here cause you’re paralyzed in fear, at least you won’t regret dropping forty bucks on it.” You shrugged as you handed the cashier your credit card.

Wanda’s face reddened, something she quickly tried to hide from her brother who was enjoying this way too much. Her flustered state faded quickly when she processed what you said. “Hey!” You chuckled before thanking the cashier as she returned your card.

“Please go to the table to sign your waivers, entrance is down that hill. Enjoy your night.” The monotone voice told you that the poor woman’s been working all night. You didn’t have time to dwell on that though as you felt a panicked tapping on your arm.

“What’s wrong? We haven’t even entered yet.” You teased.

“W-what did she mean by waivers?” You chuckled at the panicked tone in the witch’s voice.

“Just means if you have a heart attack or something, you can’t sue.” You shrugged nonchalantly, but Wanda took it very seriously and turned to you with even wider eyes.

“That can happen!?”

“Well, it happened at least once if the thought of doing a waiver.” You answered, once again, nonchalantly. You looked at Wanda and could swear you saw her blood run cold. You laughed, which resulted in you receiving a glare. “Relax, Wan, you’ll be fine. You’re an Avenger, you’ve faced off against killer robots, stared death in the face time and time again!” You exclaimed dramatically as you waved your arms. You noticed Wanda start to smile and relax her shoulders. 

“Thanks, Y/n.” She gave you a sweet smile, and you couldn’t help but melt.

“Yeah, anytime.” Your eyes locked with Wanda, you were about to look away but couldn’t. ‘Wow, were her eyes always this green? They’re beautiful.’ You thought.

A blush appeared on the witch’s face as she tore her gaze from you. You were about to ask what happened, but were interrupted. “Let’s go slow pokes!” Pietro’s voice shouted, effectively breaking the moment.

“Yeah, yeah Sonic, we’re coming!” You rolled your eyes as you shouted back. Wanda giggled at the banter between you and her brother, she loved that you two were close. With that, you and her headed down the hill towards the entrance.

After about a half hour, it seemed Wanda was holding up well. The three of you walked out of the corn maze, and she had a triumphant smile on her face. “I thought you said this place was scary.” She teased causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“Congratulations you survived the corn maze, you get to join the hall of fame with the other twelve year-olds.” As if to emphasize your point, three twelve year-olds ran out of the maze in giggles, clearly unaffected. Wanda pouted. “Aw, don’t worry. I thought you were very brave.” You teased yet again, which resulted in an elbow to the side.

“You’re a jerk.” Wanda held back a smile as she strutted forward. You laughed as you jogged forward to catch up.

“Alright, are you guys ready for the big one?” Pietro asked and your eyes widened.

“Oh, Piet, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You said as you nudged your head towards Wanda, hinting that you didn’t think she could handle that. Unfortunately, she caught on.

“Aw come on, Y/n. I’m not a baby.” 

“I know, but you can’t go from the corn maze to...that.” You gestured towards the haunted maze entrance, a giant purple demon with smoke blowing out of it’s ears looming over. You guys turned at the sound of screams, and saw a group run out of the maze in fear, which then dissolved into laughter.

“They seem to be having fun.” Wanda gestured towards the group.

“Yeah, after the screams of terror.” You shot back. “You can’t go from walking around the block to running a marathon.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” Wanda strutted forward towards the entrance, determined to prove you wrong.

You groaned as you looked over to Pietro, who watched the whole ordeal with a cheeky smile. “Your sister’s insane.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” Pietro said under his breath, but you still heard it.

“What?”

“Nothing!” With that, the man sped forward, catching up to his sister at the entrance. You stared after him for a moment in shock before joining them.

The three of you walked the path, and everything seemed to be going well...for all of five seconds. The first jump scare happened behind Wanda. The loud screech startled her, and she jumped with a scream. She stumbled into your arms, and you wrapped them around her in order to keep her from falling. You chuckled, and Wanda looked up at you with the intention to glare. However, when your eyes locked again, Wanda couldn’t help but stare.

You, of course, had to ruin the moment. “Not too late to turn back, y’know. This is just the beginning.” Wanda groaned and pulled away from you, continuing forward. You laughed. “You can hold my hand if you want!” You don’t know what compelled you to say that, but you knew you weren’t entirely joking.

And you didn’t regret it when Wanda reached out and held your hand without another word. You smiled, squeezing her hand.

What you didn’t see was Pietro giving Wanda a thumbs up as you both walked past.

At some point, you guys lost Pietro in the dark maze. Wanda wasn’t even worried as she still held your hand tightly, and you knew the man would be fine and he’ll meet up with you at the exit. 

Wanda had been holding up better than you thought. You wouldn’t say she was good per say, seeing as she screamed and practically jumped into your arms at the slightest sound, but she hadn’t collapsed on the ground in tears yet, so you’d count that as a win.

“Gotta say, Maximoff. I’m impressed.” You said as you two walked down the maze hand in hand.

“I’m just being that super brave Avenger like you said.” Wanda giggled, and you couldn’t help but melt at the noise.

“Well you’re doing an awesome job. Even if the last three guys almost made you pee your pants.” You laughed loudly as you took in the shocked reaction the woman gave you.

“Y/n!” She scolded, but before you could even respond, the worst jump scare yet occurred. 

A large animatronic growled and lowered from the ceiling right behind Wanda. The witch turned to look briefly as she screamed loudly and jumped to you again. This time, however she literally jumped into your arms. You quickly braced your hands under her thighs, catching her, as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The force from the jump caused you to stumble back into a darker corner of the maze. Your back hit a hay wall, and you and Wanda laughed at the moment. Your laughter continued for a moment, and Wanda lifted her head from your shoulder to look into your eyes. Both of you got quiet as you continued to stare, sensing the moment shift.

“You okay?” You whispered, almost as if talking to loudly would shatter the moment. Wanda nodded, eyes still locked onto yours. After a moment of silence, she spoke up.

“Y’know...I think a distraction would help.” Your eyebrows shot up at the insinuation. You doubted you heard her correctly, but when you saw her eyes shift down to your lips, you knew what she wanted. And you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t want it too.

“I...Yeah, I think I could help with that.” You barely got your sentence out when Wanda smashed her lips to yours roughly. You tightened your hold on her thighs as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You stood there, making out roughly against the wall of the maze. As wild and sudden as this was, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

Pietro noticed you two were gone for a really long time. He was beginning to get concerned, and pulled out his phone ready to call one of you. Turns out he didn’t need to. 

You two came out of the maze, only you weren’t alone. You and Wanda each had a security guard holding your arm. After you two were out of the maze completely, they let you go and walked off. It was then that Pietro noticed both of your disheveled states. And he could swear he saw two or three hickeys forming on your neck.

“No you didn’t-” He started, but you cut him off.

“Not a word.” Your hand found it’s way to Wanda’s as you guys walked towards the exit of the park, figuring it’d be bad Avengers press if you guys stayed any longer at this point. You had an awesome night anyway, and didn’t care if it ended a little early. Besides, you had a feeling you’d get to have some more...fun when you got back to the compound.

You didn’t notice Pietro high five Wanda’s free hand.

[youarejesting]

Wings Unfolded

Rating: All (mentions of death) Pairing: Ryu Minhyuk and friends Genre: Drama, Mystery, Magic. Words: 1.7k Summary:  Minhyuk finds out his magic is real when he makes his friend disappear. Suspected for her disappearance, he manages to go free. Knowing she is safe they live happily together until some meddling teens create new wounds for Minhyuk. AKA The life of Bella.

Arabella Read was my desk mate. Her family moved to South Korea many years ago, her father got a well-paid job and they lived comfortably. Her family was large, she had four siblings each older than herself, and because of this, she had no real expectations of her life. Though she was relieved from the stress of good grades and getting into college, she still tried her best. She just had the luxury to have a little more fun than most of the students.

It was odd coming from a family with different ideals, especially me her desk mate Ryu Min-Hyuk. I was such a studious kid but I was honestly miserable. She had recently learned a few sleight-of-hand magic tricks from her father and she made sure to show them to me whenever she could. In those short seconds, it was like I could forget about the exams and books and genuinely have a good time.

She would playfully pester, but I grew more and more unsettled as the days went on. It was hard to smile when my head was filled with worries. Her family caused quite the commotion, her father’s red hair, had been passed down to all of his children. I had noticed she had been previously bullied, but she never let it worry her.

I sat alone in the hospital bed my legs curled up to my chest, and I heard her step into the room. Her bag had a distinct jingle of keyrings that gave her away before her flaming red hair came into view. “Min-Hyuk?”

I turned to her, my eyes landing on her small form in the doorway and she smiled softly in return. She seemed unable to make a coherent sentence that expressed her care and concern for my condition. Perhaps she was worried that I would think she was pitying me. She stayed silent and cut fresh fruit. I saw the lights of the amusement park illuminate the afternoon sky, the top of the Ferris wheel was just in view from the window.

“Do you want to go to the amusement park?” she questioned, “My mum gets free admission because of her food stall, I can get us in if you want?”

My eyes met hers but I didn’t say a word, “Would you like to see a magic trick?” she asked with a raise of my brow. I watched her shuffle a pack of cards showing me the trick and I felt my lips pulled up in a small smile.”You can have the pack of cards if you like, and you can learn some tricks while you are in the hospital, my dad always says the real magic happens when the audience smile.”

“If you can make them believe…” She held out her hand and with a swish, she was holding a small flower, “then the magic will come to life”

I smiled taking the flower and watching her as she packed up the extra fruit into a small container and placed it beside my bed. She watched me play with the pack of cards, giving pointers and tips. She stopped by a few times and dropped off books on magic and more and I was lost in a world that truly called to me. She told me she would happily be my assistant and stand by my side on the stage. It made me happy to have her support.

As time went on the tricks and sleight-of-hand became something more, it was somewhere between the mix of books and the bump to my head. The magic I performed was different, I couldn’t control it completely. It wasn’t something I could command, but on special occasions, the magic words would make everything come to life.

I dropped out of school and spent my days at the amusement park. It was the night after one of our shows, I was wearing my black and white suit with a big red bowtie and she was wearing a red sequin dress that matched her crimson hair.

We were practicing a vanishing act, except when I said the words “Annara Sumanara” they felt heavy.

—

“You are under arrest for the suspicion of Arabella Read’s disappearance, if you could come with us, sir?” The policeman cuffed me, dragging me out of the theme park past all the children making a scene. I was painted to be a bad guy.

“You were the last person to see her, can you tell us about that night?” The officer questioned

“We were performing on the stage and as we finished we spent the evening trying a new routine,” I said softly rubbing my wrists where the metal cuffs were digging into my flesh.

“We found these in your change room, this is the dress she was wearing the night of her disappearance, can you tell me how they got in your change room.” The officer asked pressing with pictures and pieces of clothing.

“We share a change room, we are one act, so we take turns getting dressed.” I explained, “I didn’t do anything, she isn’t missing. It was a vanishing trick, I was supposed to make her disappear and when I said the words she was gone and I couldn’t find her, I promise you I have no idea where she went. Look at the footage, the whole place has surveillance if she leaves the theatre then you will see where she goes. Otherwise, she is still inside the theatre somewhere.”

“Then where is she, hiding under a sheet, in a box waiting for you to say the magic words?”

“I didn’t do anything.” My words were meek, but I was let free, the park was inspected but there was no sign of Arabella Read. The park was shut down due to the rumors and I had nowhere to go, so I made a home in the theatre.

—

The small music box Ferris wheel was spinning filling the room with a delicate tune, while I was changing my shirt. She gave a few audible kisses and a catcall catching my attention and I turned to face her.

“Ri-Eul, does it hurt?” She asked looking towards my shoulder, the scar was old and silvery against my skin.

“It doesn’t” I smiled reassuringly, it wouldn’t be good to have her fret over such an old wound. I took another shirt and she spoke again.

“Ri-Eul is in pain,” she repeated her voice concentrating on her words.

“Don’t worry. It really doesn’t hurt at all.” I grabbed my shoulder feeling the slight raise of the scar tissue, “It’s just a small remnant of a very old memory.”

I pulled on my shirt quickly, so she wouldn’t have to look at the old injury and buttoned up the shirt quickly.

—

I returned to her calling for me, I walked around the table and saw that meddlesome teenage girl Baek Hana hiding behind the table. I turned on my light and she screamed before collecting herself.

“What is it now?” I asked annoyed that she had broken into my home again. She told me it was because she was interested in me and my magic, but I could see the lies in her eyes. I wasn’t in the mood so I told her to “Come again later.”

Her words got on my nerves and I was unable to stop myself from asking, “Is it really my magic you are interested in, sneaking and peeping around-” There on her lapel was a small camera flashing at me, she was recording. I went to grab the camera and she moved.

“Actually, I am not that interested in magic. Plus if I really was interested I would pay to watch it in a theatre. Why would I come here?” When I pressed for her true reason for entering my home she replied with something I wasn’t expecting. “To get evidence. I thought I should let others know what is going on, in a place like this.”

She showed the video of the old man who had harassed Ah-Yi and in the video, it looked like I was trying to kill him. She began demanding answers, but the final straw was when she said my magic wasn’t real.

“I don’t care if you think I am totally crazy, but my magic?” I hissed clutching her wrist wanting to drag her from my home, so I could finally be in peace. I hadn’t made my best friend vanish with fake magic, I don’t make things come alive with tricks. “My magic is real.”

She threatened me with the footage and when I went to grab it she bumped into the heavy ornate cage on the table. The cage toppled over and the wooden branch inside fell crushing Arabella who had hit her head hard against the top of the cage. Her small body was struggling against the heavy wood her small cries were weak and strained.

In a thoughtless rage, I grabbed Baek Hana by the throat wanting her to feel the same pain as my Bella, but another cry had me letting go and rushing to Bella’s side. I was trying to pull the cage door open but it was jammed in, I tried to shake it free, tried to hit and claw at the cage to free Arabella from her suffering.

“Bella!” My tears were flowing as I struggled and finally, the door came free. I held her in my arms and placed her in a small bed. She must be in shock, but a part of me knew that she was dying.

—

“The police are looking for you, you have to hide someplace else.” Yoon Ah-Yi said softly

“My Bella is very sick right now.” I replied trying to control the shaking in my voice as I looked down at my longest friend “There was just a little accident.”

“I can take her to the hospital, but you have to go somewhere else.” Yoon Ah-Yi began but my tears were unable to stop.

“Bella, are you okay?” I sniffled trying to help her feel safe, her mind was calling out for company, but she was unable to say a word. “Can you hear me? I’m here”

“I will take her to the hospital.”

“Not the hospital, Bella says she doesn’t want to spend her last days in the hospital. She said she is not afraid of death, but she doesn’t want to be lonely.”

[gold-pavilion]

Hi Red-san! ( ´▽｀)

Not sure if you got asked about this question before(´ω｀) but would you mind sharing with us your journey of learning Japanese? Such as why you picked up the language, how you learn it, obstacles you faced or advice you would give etc.

Many BSD fans are inspired to learn Japanese given how strong the literature elements the story has. It will be very nice to read your thoughts such to give us more ideas about learning Japanese as I personally admire your insight towards the language very much! Thank you! *\(^o^)/*

HI KANI-KUNNNN IT’S SO LOVELY GETTING AN ASK FROM YOU always a pleasure to talk to you!! Plus that’s a very nice question!! My experience in this fandom also tells me maaaany many people have an interest in the language itself, more than in any other fandom I’ve been in, and I find that to be a wonderful thing.

For me, it’s been… whew. To put it bluntly, I’m a slow learner. I have a thick fucking skull. So I’ve been learning japanese on and off a LONG while. I think I’ve learned a bunch of tips and tricks along the way!

I did my first curious attempts at learning a few words and stuff when I was 17, I think, translating Vocaloid songs the word-by-word dictionary way. (This was how I started learning english when I was a very young kid too; sitting in front of my N64 games, translating the dialogue boxes word by word and trying to figure out what the game wanted me to do and what the characters were trying to say, so instinctively I did the same with japanese.) Afterwards, when I went to college, I chose linguistics and translation (spanish-english-japanese-portugese) as my career, but since college was too expensive I didn’t stay long. I left it aside for some years, till I was able to pick up going to a japanese institute regularly, signing up for all the competitions and standardized tests and things I possibly could! I made sure to push myself a lot, and started practicing more actively by myself too. Now I don’t go to classes anymore, I just keep at it on my own. And I think I’m doing pretty well!

So here’s a couple of things I believe are important to learning japanese (or any language):

• Any reason for entering the journey of language-learning is good. Anything that gets you learning a new skill just cannot be bad. Who cares that it was because of anime or manga or music or whatever? If it got your ass motivated and working at it, it's a good thing! Nobody goes to a skilled sportsman and tells them "OH BUT you only started playing this sport cause of your friends?? cringe, I bet you'll drop it". Learning any new thing is a wonderful endeavor. You'll gain something you'll have for the rest of your life. Pick up whatever you're interested in picking up, and if possibly, take the chance to do it early in life!!

• PLUS having an additional interest tied to the language is what keeps you going. Language learning, more than any other skill or type of knowlege, slips away from us if we're not using it. By liking anime and translating manga in JP, by playing games and using the internet in ENG and having reasons to have the languages around me is how I make this stick.

• For the learning itself, formal classes and informal practice are both good. The eternal debate of which one is superior is silly, none should be ignored, both are good and together they lead to the best levels of knowledge. Formal classes give you a good structure and understanding of the language, informal practice gives you looseness and gets you talking. I think everyone should try to do a bit of both! Signing up for a class or learning from online lessons / books that are organized from the basics up, + using anything outside of that to practice! I'm hugely thankful for my teachers, the tests I took and academic activities I did for formal learning, and the manga and doujin and fanarts with text that are my source of practice. They both got me acquainted with japanese in different ways.

• This is my personal way of doing things, so I dunno if it works for everybody, but I like pushing myself to try new things to expand my knowledge. When I went to formal classes I'd try to be fearless and speak up in class, I signed up for writing and speech competitions and I took standardized tests as I felt ready for them. Stuff that got me using my knowledge and gave me goals. Trying to translate manga was pushing myself too, with text that looked long and daunting at first but got progressively more manageable. Now I try to push myself to talk in social media bit by bit, surely I make lots of mistakes, but that's the path to progress!

• Finally, staying humble, staying patient, listening to other people and never getting cocky. Nothing blocks someone harder from a language than thinking they're already an expert sdfgfdsh. I've seen so many people figure out the basics of speaking just like an anime character and... ending their journey right there, with half-baked knowledged and pre-fabricated sentences that don't work much in reality. Saying "I know this language" after one's first sentences will close the path forward soooo hard.

I wonder if any of these resonates with you? I'd love to know about your journey sometimes too, Kani-kun!!

[mrskurono]

a/n: this is the first installment(?) of the Nori brain rot from ages ago w/a Studio Ghibli vibe, idk man this just happened word count: 2.2k tags: post!Shibuya arc, possible spoilers, blood, violence, cursing(?), heavily Hoizer inspired, kinda edited character(s): Noritoshi Kamo, fem!sorcerer reader pt ll

Curses stank. 

In a metaphorical sense yes. But also in a literal sense for you. 

These twisted beings permeated your senses like a rot that you could never rid. Unless exorcised they stuck around in your nostril for days. Each one a different smell but all of them stuck in your craw all the same. 

Beasts of rancid nature in behaviors and looks. Nothing more than to be exorcised by sorcerers. You learned quickly that exorcising the curses was no different than taking out week old trash. 

What you hadn’t planned on was someone doing more than dumping trash on the world. Whatever had happened. Suddenly you were faced with more than just dutiful tasks of keeping non sorcerers safe. A monsoon of trash had been dumped not only on you. But every human in this world. 

Your nostrils burned. And you couldn’t be rid of these things quick enough. Each one you exorcised only meant two or three popped up in their place. Never ending. You couldn’t stomach this smell though. It wouldn’t kill you before you got a breath of fresh air.

Glancing around you take a deep breath. Mountain air on the outskirts of Kyoto during this time of year always meant a refreshing break from the city stank. What you smelled wasn’t refreshing. It was that same vile smell you could clearly recall. 

A curse. One that was close too.

To thread carefully was to perhaps save your life. Every aspect of daily life ripped from you. As well of millions of others. You had done your part to try and protect those around you. Soon finding it in slight vain as you sought out some place to find your own breath of fresh air in this madness. 

‘It’s close....I feel like I’m gonna hurl.’ Thoughts toying with where the curse might have hidden itself. You keep a firm grip on your hilt with every intent to draw it the second the creature made the mistake of slipping up. 

Where you could smell it lurking. There was something else. Almost metallic in scent. You ignored it though. Nothing over powered the scent of a curse. You longed for just the sight of these things. Told over and over again how handy it was to have more than one sense open to curses. Each and every time you took a whiff of one, it made you wish nothing more than to just be able to see these creatures instead of smell them as well.

‘Wait-’ Every alarm in your body went off. Snapping around you couldn’t smell the rancid putridness of the curse anymore. That same metallic scent hung around though. You couldn’t identify it. It was something you’d never smelt before but also so familiar. 

Each hair on the back of your neck rose. This was an old deserted Buddhist temple. No one should have been here except you and the curse ransacking the place. A safe haven or so you thought. When your instinct told you to step behind one of the structural beams. You were suddenly glad you did.

Mere inches from your face, the gust of an arrow whistled past you. Weapons were not used by curses. Now you understood. That smell was human.

Quick to defend yourself, with sword drawn, you didn’t expect the same arrow to make a hard one eighty back in the direction you were. No wooden pillar to save you now. You raise your sword just quick enough to sheer the object in half. Rendering what ever power it was imbued with useless. As it had sped past you though the faint smell of iron suddenly became strong. Whatever it was from had a source. Likely human.

Not ready to give up your ideal hiding place to some interloper. You take only a second to focus on the unfamiliar smell. Faint. And not like a curse. There was something towards the back of the temple though that hinted that they were lurking where you couldn’t see them.

With an idea of where the attack would come from. When another arrow came flying by you from a faceless source, you were ready. Smacking it down before the enchanted weapon could turn on you like the first had. This time though you’d seen what angle the projectile was fired from.

‘Gotcha,’ No shortage of ways around a deteriorated temple like this. You duck down through a few broken beams and make your way up to where the attack came from. 

Expecting to have but a lowly sniper sitting with no way to guard themselves. You find no one. But the scent lingered. Scrutinizing it closer you decided maybe to use a different sense, “...Hey, I know you’re not a curse! Neither am I! Maybe if you just-” Words cut off by another arrow whizzing past you. There was nothing ruder than being interrupted. Glowering in the direction that the arrow came from now you tightened you grip on your sword, “Ok! I get it- Strangers we might not-”

Another arrow. This time too close to your head for comfort. You lost your patience with the third one. 

Recklessly charging towards the assailant was clearly enough to throw their game off track. Swinging your weapon before seeing what it was to lie before you. It was a surprise when your blade met with the dull thud of the wooden limb of a bow. 

“What the-” You attack deflected for the moment being. Your first instinct is to jump back from whoever deflected your attack. In close enough range you thought you had the upper hand to avoid the bow. But that was purely lazy thinking on your part as the cause of the stank of iron became clear.

“Slicing exorcism!” This nobody who reeked of iron shot what looked to be a shuriken made of blood at you. 

No time to be disgusted. An overwhelming scent of blood made it apparent what you’d been smelling. It wasn’t a simple metal. It was blood.

“Oh- Oh!” You raise your blade up in the nick of time to just get the splatter of cold liquid on your cheeks. Disgusted in passing you have no time to dwell as the stranger before you makes to dart away. With their head of dark hair in your line of sight, you weren’t ready to try and re-find them once again in this maze of debris.

Lurching forward you feel the upper hand stall when they stopped your attack once more with the brute of their bow. Clear view of them now. The man who’d clearly fired the arrows was all but composed when shaking off your attack. No way to not suspect another sorcerer caught up in this giant trash heap of curse attacks. You still have no time to play nice when they hurl another blood conjured weapon at you.

In such suddenness you are less lucky than you have been. This one catching your cheek and causing a sting to spread throughout the skin of your face. Fed up with this game you don’t care if he’s a sorcerer or not. This was a one for all situation now that you intended to win.

Firm foot hold found. You realize the man has cornered himself at this point. Range attacks out of the question. Undoubtedly giving you the upper hand now. With a hefty swing of your sword and the first time you’d channeled any energy into at all. You bring it down like a guillotine. Ready to strike flesh. Instead the snap of the bow is your first sign of an upper hand. 

All but trash the man throws it aside but too slowly. You’re on him before the range attacker can pull that weird blood trick again. Slight intent to kill as if he were a curse. You swipe your foot down and knock him down to the temple floor with a hard thud.

You waste no time between the moment his head hit the ground and your above him. Tip of your blade pressed to his neck. One breath too deep from him and the sharp tip would pierce his pale skin. Eyes fixated down on him you realize in the moments after your adrenaline fades that he’s staring right up at you.

Sharp tongue your words come out curt only to be interruped right away, “Who are-”

“Another sorcerer-” His eyes open from the slits they’d remained in the skirmish, “What are you doing here? How did you-”

“I get to ask the questions!” You snarl, jabbing his throat with your sword just enough to watch a crimson bead peak from under the tip of your weapon, “You attacked me, what are you doing up here? Why were you-”

“...you’re so pretty-” Suddenly his eyes open wide realizing what he said, “Wait I didn’t-”

“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat out!” Your sword pressing uncomfortably into the side of his neck now, “I asked you a question! Why are you up here!?”

“Kamo-”

“What? What are you-”

“Kamo family!” He quickly sputtered, “Head of the Kamo family!”

The name rang a bell somewhere in your frazzled brain.

“I’m the head-” He suddenly registered really the blade to his neck, “I’m looking for stragglers-”

“In an abandoned temple?” You weren’t buying it. 

“My people live just down the hill,” He spoke earnestly, “I had to keep the stragglers safe when the curses released from their seals in the keep. Some where up here but-”

“I killed them,” You glared down at him, “I killed all but the one you shot. How long were you up here? Were you following me?”

A shake of his head even as he stared at the glimmer of your sword, “No. I was looking for anyone who came up here. I didn’t expect to find another sorcerer. I felt your cursed energy and assumed you were a curse.”

Eyes narrowing you didn’t like the sound of something so simple to this pretty face, “...I don’t believe you. Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now or else-”

“Noritoshi-” He blurted out, “Noritoshi Kamo. Head of the Kamo family. I can give you some place safe to stay. I don’t understand what’s going on but-”

You lift the blade from his throat. Something about the diligent tone in his voice. Like he’d introduced himself like that a million times. You could kill him but it seemed a waste. Weapon retracted but no offer to help him up. You stand above him with a confounded glare, “...do you know what’s happening?”

His head shook and your stomach dropped. Noritoshi didn’t get up. Only propping himself up slightly when he realized the back of his head was thumping from the impact, “....A special grade curse released a powerful seal in Shibuya about two weeks ago...I saw but....” His face became somber and he shook his head once again, “...I don’t know what’s been going on. I just know things are in disarray and it’s my duty to protect my people.”

Once more you were skeptical but with how little rest you’d gotten in the past few days due to the tremendous increase in curses. This man’s words seemed as solid as any other theory you’d heard. More so than the plea of non sorcerer’s you listened to day in and day out about the end of times. 

“...Has the Jujutsu elders said anything?” You step off him completely. If he was speaking the truth maybe he knew what was going on as an actual heir to one of the clans.

Noritoshi looked up at you a moment longer, “No...there’s been a wide emergency notice to do what you can but our numbers....” He grew quiet, “...as many sorcerers seem to be dying as the rest of Japan.”

Perhaps the end of times were coming. You grip your sword hilt tight and take a deep breath, “....seems a angel of death is coming then whether we like it or not.”

“You’re a sorcerer.” He began to get to his feet, “Please, come with me. If anything to stay away from here. There is a grave yard on the other side of the thicket. More curses will come. No one should be here even as a sorcerer yourself.”

First hand you’d seen the influx he spoke of. From every direction. While out of the city provided some safety you knew that this place left you as vulnerable as any other if you stayed alone. With no words to be spoken of from the elders. And an age of curses threatening to crowd out humans. Like a trash pile reaching it’s capacity. You didn’t see much choice in this one.

“...I will kill you if I find out you’re lying to me.” Voice firm without breaking eye contact with him as you sheath your sword, “I smell one curse in this safe space of yours and I’ll-”

“Kill me, yes,” Noritoshi nodded with both busted ends of his bow in his hands as he looked on at you, “I am not lying but if you see fit, I’ll accept you as my angel of death then.”

a/n: I have one wine cooler in me as I finish this. This might be a multi part if the inspiration finds me. Anyways, um, yeah! This is an old idea coming so pls let me know if you liked it!

[bokettochild]

Request: something with the doppels please?

I headcannon the dopples as being Legend's deviants in a similar way that the Colors are for Four, so that's reflected here.

I came up with this a while ago though, and while I'm not fully satisfied with it, I thought it would be fun to explore how the dopples react to the Four Sword.

Hence, Color and Dopple bonding/meeting!

If the item they grabbed in order to help someone else could not be cursed for once, Legend would be very thankful.

But since when did things ever go his way?

...Their way?

You know what, when did things ever go as planned? There, pronouns don’t matter this way.

Not that the pronouns really change much, they just become... plural...

Four would very much not like to believe their eyes.

No really, please, make this not be real.

There are four Legends; four of him, and the Four Sword has been split.

Sure, the enemies that sprung on the two of them while they were gathering kindling are now dead. Sure, Legend protected them when the attack had caught them both off guard. And yeah, all five of them are now bleeding and injured, but why does it need to be five?

Because Legend’s sword was knocked away. Vio reminds the rest of them. Because our sword was the closest at hand and he needed a weapon.

Picking it up shouldn’t trigger it though, it needs force, it needs power pushing through it to activate. Blue grumbles.

And what do you think Legend does with his sword usually? None of his items are exactly normal if you recall.

Blue huffs at that, but no one says anything else, Red is too busy cheering at having more brothers while Green is currently weighing the pros and cons of Legend knowing the secrets of the Four Sword.

In all honesty though, the vet is taking it rather well.

“Seriously,” The red Legend sighs, looking at his alternate selves and then at the Four. The man doesn’t even ask for an explanation, he’s just burying his head in his hands. “Of course, of course this happens.”

“Aaand that’s why it’s called the Four Sword.” the green Legend sighs, looking at the blade he still holds in his hands with a slight smirk.

“I’d wondered if it was fully capable yet.” Blue Legend hums. “I suppose it only needed some power to unlock it’s abilities.”

The last of the four Legend’s sits frozen, shining gaze locked on Four for a brief moment as they look back at him. It doesn’t last long. They aren’t sure how or why, but this deviant is smaller than Legend, and the second that they make any move towards their split companion, the yellow deviant squeaks and ducks behind the green one, bright eyes shining with absolute horror.

“Hello,” The blue deviant peers around his brother in confusion. “There’s a forth one?”

“Four Sword.” The red deviant grumbles. “It implies that there would be four.”

“There was never four before.” The green one muses, looking behinds himself with a cocked brow. “And none of us was that fearful.”

“You okay?” It’s clear Legend’s blue isn’t the same violently minded variant as Four has, in fact, he seems something more like Vio or Green, calm and observant, but not altogether unattached from the world.

“How-” The golden variant whispers, eyes still not leaving Four as the younger looking Legend stares out from behind his other deviant. “You’re dead!”

They pause, confusion on their face as they take in the uneasy way that Legend’s variants look at each other.

“You’re dead, you’re dead, YOU’RE DEAD!” The deviant shrieks, frenzied and frightened in a way they’ve never seen Legend before, hands gripping tightly to his counterpart as he stares at the Four-Who-Are-One with a manic sort of terror, confusing them and setting his brothers ill at ease.

What does this...child, intend by his words? Is it a threat? Is it a dream, a hallucination? Splitting can mess with the mind, especially for first timers, is this part of Legend just insane somehow?

“I killed you!” There are tears in the golden one’s eyes, and he continues to quake behind his counterpart as the other three exchange looks of recognition.

“Kid, calm down.” Red starts, brash and uncertain.

“That’s Four.” Blue adds.

“He’s our friend.” Green soothes, oozing charm and charisma that reminds them of Warriors.

“They tried to kill us.” Goldie whispers, clutching even tighter at the tunic in front of him.

“Um...no?” Blue is taking the forefront of their own mind, but Red holds him back from being too violent. Even so, their own variants know better than to push at something so fragile. The golden variant of Legend is like the metal he’s colored after, delicate and so easy to break, too harsh a movement or action will snap him in two, and they aren’t ready to deal with that split, not when Legend is already in four pieces!

“Ignore him, please.” The red Legend sighs, rubbing at his face in a tired manner, and when they look closely it’s easy to see that this variant received the burden of Legend’s eyebags- his tunic and cap may be red, but the bruises beneath his eyes are a dark purple that make the vet’s own gaze seem near black in comparison.

“It’s a slight mix up.” The green one adds, kneeling down beside his counterpart with an assuring smile that they have only ever seen directed at the youngest of their number, and even then, most of the time it’s meant for Hyrule.

The Blue, Red and Green deviants all stare at each other, eyes flicking silently and expressions twisting for a moment before there’s sighing from the Blue and Red, and the two of them stand and make their way over to Four.

“Let’s give them some space.” Red sighs, “Kid’ll be freaking out for a hot second yet.”

They can’t help the suspicious raise of their brows. “You do realize he’s part of you, right?”

The two Legends exchange another look before looking back to him.

“Not exactly.”

“He,” Red Legend jabs a thumb over his shoulder, “Is supposed to be dead.”

Four would like a moment to scream please.

“What do you mean?” Red takes control as a panicked glance is shot over to the small-Legend. “He’s part of you!”

“Part of us that died.”

“We’ve been split before.”

“Albeit in a different way.”

“There wasn’t four of us to choose from.”

“Not with our soul already divided.”

“The Four Sword had to dig up something that wasn’t there anymore.”

“It was either us or the blade.”

Four has been split for the last six years and even they don’t do this. “Why are you talking like that?” They hiss, looking between the two forms of their friend. Blue is screaming inside and Red is shivering, Vio is demanding answers and Green is contemplating the possibilities of learning to do this themselves, all of which at once makes for a very busy head and no space to process much of what was just said.

“Practice.” The two Legends echo, nodding en tandem.

“Like we said,” Red sighs again. “This isn’t the first split for us.”

“First time we’ve become four.”

“But not the first split in general.”

Four looks between them, curiosity winning out over shock as Vio takes the lead. “Explain.”

And they do. As it turns out, the fabled sixth adventure of the hero of Legend resulted in his mind being divided amidst three separate bodies, each of which took on a few of his qualities as their main attributes, but, for the most part, remained distinctly Legend.

“It’s not a clear divide.” Blue Legend explains. “We share memories, can speak with each other via a link of our minds, and in general we act like we would when together.”

“Some traits are stronger though.” Red Legend adds on.

The red variant, Crimson, it turns out, is Legend’s exhaustion and irritability. He’s the frustration and stress and takes the brunt of their experiences. The blue variant, Ocean, on the other hand, is the resourceful, experienced part of Legend that can spy opportunity and possibilities in most places. He is, in a way, like Vio, representing the creative and intelligence of Legend. The green variant, Forest, the two inform him, if the valor and strength of Legend. Like their own green, this part of Legend is dedicated to his tasks and to the people around him. Without the exhaustion, bitterness and calculating aspects being as prominent, it allows him to be more open and friendly when separated from his brothers.

“And the golden one?” They ask, eyes trailing back to where the deviants in question are still talking.

Crimson sighs once again, shaking his head. “Call him Lore.”

“He’s us, but much younger.”

“He died when we were young, so his memories, his experiences, that sort of thing, they don’t line up with ours.”

Ocean nods in agreement. “Last he knew, we were visiting our grandparent’s farm after our third adventure. He doesn't know about our experiences since.”

“Much less us.” Crimson adds on. “He’s the only Link as far as he's concerned.”

“But how is he dead?” Four presses, confusion eating at their minds. It wouldn’t make sense for a deviant to be able to die, not without affecting the soul as a whole.

“He’s Legend’s innocence.” Crimson answers, eyes too dark and too sorrowful. “He’s been buried so far and so deep that he’s ceased to be a part of us anymore.”

“And he’s scared of me because...?”

“Because you tried to kill me- I mean... us.”

Three heads turn to where the younger looking Legend stands, hand tightly holding onto the forest deviant’s hand. The youngster looks calmer now, if not considerably confused. “How are you alive? I thought-”

He's cut off by a hand over his mouth as Forest offers a pained smile that looks more like a grimace. “We all thought you came hundreds of years before us.”

“I do. What’s this about killing us?” Vio’s slipping, but none of the Legends seem to notice.

“Nothing.” Three voices chime at once.

“Right.” Ocean looks around them with a frown. “How do we change back? Splitting up always causes problems, and the sooner we reunite and get back to normal, the better.”

“The Four Sword should do the trick, if you can become of one mind.” They provide their brother- brothers? “Just touch the tips together.”

Legend’s deviants all nod, understanding in their gazes that shouldn’t be there.

“Why aren’t you freaking out? Most people would at least be a little shocked by this.” They ask, gaze traveling from one of the split heroes to another.

“We’ve wielded the Four Sword before.” Crimson explains.

“Not wielded, exactly-” Ocean corrects.

“We carried them.” Forest clarifies. “But only until we could put them back.”

Four looks between them, and as once, they answer. “Adventure number one.”

Okay then. “I have so many questions.” They sigh, looking between Legend’s deviants.

“Ask Legend. We’re him after all, so when we reform, we’re still there.” Ocean reassures them.

“Most of us anyway.” Crimson murmurs.

“Am I dying too now?” Lore sighs, looking up at his brothers with eyes so tragically sad that Four almost feels guilty for asking them to reform.

“Not dying.” Forest winces.

“You’re going back to sleep.” Ocean tries.

“Or back to Gramma.” Red adds. “She’s probably worried.”

Lore looks pacified, and it takes only a moment more before Legend is standing, as one, before the Four again, eyes shadowed and hand rubbing down his face as he hands over the sword. “Oy vey.”

“You took that well.” They respond, taking the sword back and not at all wrapping their arms around it protectively.

“Been split before.” Legend groans. “Speak no words, or I tell everyone about you.”

“Me?”

“All of you.” Legend glares, but their mischief in his gaze. “I didn’t study the legends of the Four Sword for nothing, I know.”

And somehow, that doesn’t worry them. Legend knows how they work, knows there are more than one of them, but he’s the same, in a twisted, strange and not Four Sword based way. “We’re talking later, and I want to know more about them if I can.”

“Only if you split too.” Legend challenges.

“We can do that.” Four agrees. “We really should split more anyways.”

“We?” Legend cocks a brow, straightening up from where he stands.

“Us.” Four gestures to themselves. “Four.”

The vet stares for a moment before chuckling softly. “Why didn’t you tell us we had your pronouns wrong? Plural they/them is fine you know, you just had to say something.”

“Would you like the same?”

“Heck no!” Legend winces. “I’m male, singular. The dopples are just parts of me, but that doesn’t make me a plural entity, just someone with a jumbled brain on some days.”

“Dopples?”

Legend rolls his eyes, stooping to collect the wood that he had dropped when they were attacked earlier, disregarding the way blood smears across it from the cut on his arm. “I’ll explain on the way back to camp.”

[aubreyprc]

happier

for @ssa-sparks , who asked for happier+hotchniss💕💘 feel free to send requests, ask/message💖💗💞💘💓

part four of my sour series

ao3

“Say you love her, baby,

Just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly,

When your hands are on her

I hope you're happy,

But don't be happier”

-

It hits her sometimes, how close she was to having everything before her life unravelled, leaving nothing but chaos in its wake. Leaving her too broken to even attempt at rekindling something with him, too messed up to think he could ever truly feel the same for her as he did before. Before Ian, before Boston. Before he learnt of Lauren, and how she’d shared her body and a bed with a known terrorist for two years as part of a job.

She’d been cruel when she ended it, forcing words out of her mouth that she didn’t mean in order to keep him safe. She remembers the look on his face when she’d called them casual, can remember the words he spat right back at her as she left.

She remembers how forgiving he was when he sat at her hospital bed. Grabbing her hand gently while he whispered gentle words, placing a soft kiss on her lips as he promised her that he would do whatever it took to get her back the team. Back to him.

She can also remember just how different everything was when she returned, how absolutely nothing was the same between her and anyone on the team, but especially him.

She remembers the moment it ended, the moment he told her he wanted her, but they needed time. She should recover from everything that she’s been through and they’ll talk when it’s time. They’ll know when it’s time.

Yet that time never comes, the two of them moving further and further apart as months go by and soon they’re not even talking. She accepts with a heavy heart that it’s truly over when it’s obvious he’s started to see someone new.

It hits her again with force, like a harsh slap to the face (which, she thinks she would have preferred. It probably would have hurt less) how close she was to having everything when she hears the name Beth fall from his lips, talking in his office with Dave with a glass of whiskey. (something the three of them used to do, but she won’t dwell on it. She can’t. It hurts too much) Her plan was to just hand him her report and leave. Ignore the way his eyes would linger on her for a moment too long to be friendly, words he refuses to say on the tip of his tongue as he watches her walk away without a word. Absolutely nothing let to say between the two of them. They had something, something remarkable, something that a person only gets once and it was taken from underneath them because of her, and as she stands outside of his almost but not quite shut door, she freezes, the soft tone the other woman’s name being said in rendering her frozen, the wind completely knocked out of her.

It could have seen seconds, it could have been hours before she clears her throat, tapping three times softly on the door before opening it.

“The report,” she smiles, walking to his desk, setting it down gently with a fake smile while her broken heart hammers in her chest. “Night.” She smiles to the two men, nodding her head in farewell and she turns to leave.

“Can we talk, tomorrow?” He asks her and she closes her eyes, holding down the door handle as she takes a deep breath before turning, her fake smile back on her face.

“Sure,” she agrees, “is that all?”

He nods, sending her back a smile that doesn’t seem like his and she wonders then, if he can see right through hers. Nodding again, she leaves his office, taking deep breaths, holding back her tears as she grabs her coat and bag before swiftly existing the building.

She’s in the comfort of her own car when she lets them fall, can feel them rolling down her cheek as she speeds out of the parking garage, as though she can out run the heartache.

To Emily’s surprise he comes to her the next night, knocking on her apartment door at too much of a late hour for it to be anything professional and as she lets him in, watches as he looks around her new apartment she inhales a deep breath and prepares herself for whatever words he was about to speak. Maybe he’ll finally say the ones that have been on the tip of his tongue for the last three months, she thinks.

“I take it you heard?” He questions, looking at her for the first time since he walked in.

“About Beth? Yeah…” She tells him, sending him a sad smile.

“I was going to tell you first, before-” He stops, shaking his head. “You should have found out from me first hand and for that I’m sorry.” He tells her.

“It’s fine,” she smiles, “I’m glad you’re moving on. You’ve seemed happier these last few weeks.”

“Emily-” He starts to say, only to be stopped by her a moment later.

“Really, Aaron.” She smiles, “It’s okay, we ended and you moved on, it’s normal.”

“Yeah,” He says, “I just wanted to apologise, for not telling you first hand.” He smiles.

“No hard feelings,” she jokes, a small laugh escaping her throat. “Did you want to talk about anything else?”

He stays silent for a few moments, mulling over the words in his head as he ponders about saying them, ponders about opening up old wounds.

“No,” He says, deciding to draw a line on what could have been, choosing instead to try and work on gaining her back as his friend. His close friend. Maybe his best. “No that’s it.” He tells her with a smile.

She nods, leading the way to her front door, almost closing it as he steps out only to stop when he turns back to face her.

“You know you’ll always have me, right?” He questions shyly, as if he’s unsure, “No matter what…”

She stares at him, clearing her throat before speaking.

“I know.” She tells him softly, smiling as her eyes meet his properly since he walked out three months ago. “I know.”

“Good.” He nods, “Good night.”

“Goodnight.” She smiles, watching him walk off before closing her door, his words ringing in her ears like a siren.

Knowing about Beth and meeting, Beth, turn out to be two completely different feelings.

You can ignore the existence of someone you’ve never met, trick yourself into thinking that they’re no one, that’s it’s nothing.

You can’t ignore them however, once you’ve met them. Seen first hand the happiness written over their faces.

That’s something Emily learns while hungover, stood at the finish like of a triathlon, staring at Aaron’s smile as he hugs the other woman, the way his eyes almost shimmer as he looks at her…Beth. The happiness that radiates of him causes her stomach to turn and she has to look away while she does her best to ignore their laughs, turning to watch him, Beth and Jack walk away, her heart cracking in her chest as she watches him smile into their kiss, forcing herself to look away and follow JJ and Penelope to Reid’s car, throwing on a smile while spilling a lie about her head when they ask why she looks like she’s just seen a ghost.

The conversation with Regina sends her right back to where she started, hitting home more than she would have liked and she knows its obvious when Hotch lets her go back to the hotel, telling her she was done for the day and to take sometime to herself.

She’s no idea how much time had past, how long she’d been staring at the ceiling replaying how well her life was going before Ian had found her, how happy she was, maybe the happiest she’d ever been. She thinks about how he’d run a hand down her spine as they spoke in hushed whispers in his bed, confessions and laughs shared between the two in the late hours of the night, as though they were the only two people in the word. She thinks about how he’d cup her jaw gently before kissing her if she babbled on too much, leaving them both smiling into their kiss, pure happiness written on both their faces as they each tore further into the others heart, the feeling of forever lingering in the air as they wrapped themselves in each other.

She turns her head to the door at the gentle three taps and sits up, running a hand through her hair as she walks over, already knowing who it is before she even opens the door.

“Hey,” He says softly, passing her as she moves aside to allow him in. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” She tells him, “Just a tough case.”

“I know how hard it must have been, to listen to Regina.”

“It’s fine,” She tells him, “She was right. Mine is dead.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.” He tells her from experience and she looks down, wiping her tears just as quick as they fall but not quick enough, already feeling him talking steps towards her before stopping mere inches away, cupping her face gently as he had done so many times before, and wiping her tears.

“It’s going to be okay.” He tells her gently, her eyes meeting his and in that moment it’s easy to let themselves believe for a second it’s him and her again, that there’s no Beth, no Ian and no Boston, just them, a mere year ago, happy and on their way to love. 

His lips are almost on hers when she places to flat hands into his chest, pushing him away slowly as she drops her head.

“We can’t,” she whispers, “You’re with Beth.”

He steps back, “sorry, I should…I should go.” He mumbles, looking around the room as he clears his throat.

The words I want you die on his tongue as he forces himself to walk out of the room, flashes of their nights together playing on a loop in his brain as he screws his eyes shut.

They don’t talk about what almost happened.

She continues to watch his happiness increase as months go by, and carries on pretending that she’s fine, that she isn’t dying inside with every passing moment she spends watching him smile at another woman, watching him be happy with someone else.

He finds her for the second time at JJ’s wedding, a few hours after their previous conversation. He comes up to the side of her, smiling as she laughs at one of his lame jokes and as she turns to face him, he stills, a look on her face one he hasn’t seen before.

“Do you love her?” She asks softly, and he nods.

“I do.” He tells her and she rolls her lips, nodding her head as she forces herself not to cry. “But not like I loved you.” He continues and her eyes snap up to his, examining his features for a tell he’s lying and failing, her heart beating rapidly against her rib cage. She stares a few more moments, before gently placing a hand on the side of his face, catching his lips with her own in a delicate kiss, looping her hands to rest on the back of his neck when his arms softly wrap around her waist and pull her into him.

Their foreheads rests together as they separate and she smiles sadly.

“I miss you already.” He whispers, pulling her into a hug.

“Be happy.” She whispers back, before pulling from his arms and smiling at him, the words but please don’t be happier with her than you were with me renaming unsaid, taken instead by, “You should go, I’m sure Jack will be looking for you.”

He nods, turning to face the garden, before looking back at her.

“Go,” She laughs sadly, “I’ll be right out.”

He squeezes her hand before walking off and once he’s out of view, she takes a deep breath and turns, catching a glimpse of him, Jack and Beth as they laugh together in a corner, and even though it kills her, she has to be happy for him, she loves him, and with a heavy exhale she knows that’s all she wants, for him to be happy, even if it is without her.

She flies to London and he lets her go. He lets her go without ever telling her that it’s her he was ever truly happy with. Starting to find far too many similarities within Emily and Beth. He sees Emily’s face sometimes when he kisses Beth, imagines it’s her spine he’s tracing his fingers across and thinks of her when he envisions forever.

He ends it with Beth six months later, a tumble of apologies falling from his mouth as she walks out with a sad smile and a nod.

“You should call her.” Beth says as she stands in the doorway, “Emily.” She tells him as he frowns, his eyes widen and then she’s gone.

He calls her two weeks later and three weeks after that, is standing in front of her door, drenched head to toe as he waits for her to answer.

The smile she gives him when she opens the door makes the terrible weather and the awful traffic worth it and when her lips crash into his, he realises he’s never needed anyone but her to be happy.

fin

[novelconcepts]

Looking forward to whatever you`ve been writing on! I always wondered what Judy`s reaction would have been in `on the hunt (for who I’ve not yet become)` when they eventually told her. Like how did that go down. Or something to do with their story after the fic finished idk I just really loved that story.

“I can’t do this.”

Dani glances over her shoulder, frowning. They had been, until this moment, walking in more or less perfect tandem--Dani trying to whittle down her usual stride, Jamie moving at twice her natural clip--a steady flow of forward until just now. Now, with Jamie pulling up fast, her hand in Dani’s performing a sort of rubber-band-snap trick to keep them both on the pavement.

“What do you mean, you can’t do this?”

“This.” Jamie, grim-faced, gestures down the block. The house is still just out of sight, the car parked a truly ridiculous distance away. Jamie’s idea; If she sees us, she’d muttered, we won’t get a moment’s peace to figure it all out. 

“We have to tell her sometime,” Dani points out. “I mean--we do, don’t we?”

“Yes. No. Doesn’t have to be now, does it? Why don’t we just--just wait until we’re sending out wedding invitations. Or invitations to my funeral. Or never.”

Dani, despite herself, grins. It’s not that Jamie doesn’t get nervous--it’s just that Jamie doesn’t tend to show it. Not like she does, all sharp intake of breath and tight-clenched fists. Jamie’s nerves are quiet, smoothed over, tucked into the motion of hands which are never left idle. Jamie’s nerves are an unexpected kiss, a fumble of motion, the constant urge to put those feelings somewhere productive.

Now, she’s standing stock-still on this too-familiar street, one hand loose in Dani’s. Stock-still, looking for the first time in years like the child who had gazed balefully around a foreign living room. 

“Christ, she’s gonna fuckin’ disown me.”

She looks like she believes it, the only thing that keeps Dani from laughing outright at the idea. She believes it, and there’s a small, simple hurt on her face at the idea--her jaw held tight, her shoulders hunched. Dani presses a hand to her cheek, leaning in until their foreheads meet. 

“She won’t. You know she won’t. You’re her kid.”

“He’s her kid,” Jamie corrects, breath skidding across Dani’s lips in a way that--even at this inopportune moment--makes her pulse race. They’ve been building this beautiful thing together for a few months, and the heat of it never quite seems to fade. “I’m just the baggage.”

“Stop.” Dani kisses her once, softly. “Stop doing that. No falling back on bad habits, Jamie. She’ll be happy for us.”

She says it, and she means it, as if there isn’t a tiny spark of absolute terror kindled in her own heart at the idea of telling Judy O’Mara the truth. That Dani has not moved all the way to Vermont to share Jamie’s little apartment out of friendly camaraderie. That Dani has spent the last few months shaping a life around not only school and new friends, as she’s told Judy over the phone, but around learning just how well she and Jamie fit together. 

They do. They fit so well. Jamie’s bed--their bed--has become the kind of safe haven she hadn’t known she could find anywhere. Jamie’s fingers toying with the braid of a worn old bracelet is like coming home. 

“Come on.” She squeezes Jamie’s hand, kisses her again, lets the warmth of Jamie’s body steer her toward courage. “Like a band-aid, Jamie. Just rip it off.”

“Better idea,” Jamie says, though her legs are moving reluctantly forward again. “We go back to the hotel, I rip other things off instead, we forget this whole stupid idea.”

Tempting. “After. Come on, you haven’t seen her in how long?”

Jamie doesn’t answer. Hand in hand, they walk, and with every house they pass, a few more years seem to cycle back. They are twenty-three, newly bound, and they are seventeen, unaware of one another, and they are twelve, camped out under too-few stars. 

They are on the front step, Jamie’s hand falling away, tucking restlessly into the pocket of her jacket like she’s terrified to be seen gripping Dani’s. Dani presses the tips of her fingers lightly to Jamie’s back for a moment. 

“Deep breath. She loves you.”

“Gonna fuckin’ find out,” Jamie mutters. 

The door swinging open feels like a portal to the past, Judy O’Mara’s small frame somehow seeming as expansive as it had when Dani had been eight years old. Her face wears a few more lines these days, but wears them well--the pride of a woman who has loved hard, raised good kids, made a place for herself in the world that feels warm and right. Her eyes are wide, her mouth falling open in a delighted grin, even as Dani raises a hand in a small wave.

“Surprise?”

“You didn’t tell me you were coming to town!” She pushes through the storm door, hugging them both in a single sweeping motion that nearly knocks Jamie off the porch. “Oh my god, you should have called, I’d have made a feast!”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Jamie mumbles, but Dani can see her smiling. The Judy O’Mara of her anxious mind can’t withstand, even for a second, the truth of the woman. 

“A feast for lunch, then,” Judy says without missing a beat. She leans back, takes Jamie by the chin, turns her head gently from side to side as though looking for new scars. “You look good. Healthy. You finally learn to cook?”

“She did,” Jamie replies, tilting her head toward Dani. “Sort of.”

“I make an excellent roasted salmon,” Dani proclaims, “and...very little else.”

“Well, come in! Come in, tell me--I mean, you have to tell me everything, right? Oh, I wish I’d known, I would have moved some things around, told Mike the game could wait.”

“Game?” Jamie seems frozen on the porch, her face unreadable. Judy is moving deeper into the living room, her back to them, and Dani takes the opportunity to slip an arm around Jamie’s waist to guide her over the threshold. 

“Baseball. You know how the boys are.”

Never interested in baseball, Dani thinks wryly, remembering all the times Eddie had complained that nothing ever happened in a sport that slow. 

“They won’t be back until tomorrow, they drove all the way to Indiana for the thing. Silly,” Judy is saying. “Come on, into the kitchen, I can at least get you girls something to drink.”

“That’s, uh. That’s all right, actually,” Dani says, following the familiar path back to the big kitchen table. It feels a little less expansive now, a little more worn; the wood is pocked in places, scuffed and weathered by decades of plate and fork and cups laid down without coaster. “We really just came to see you.”

“Oh, that’s sweet to say.” Judy makes a flapping gesture without looking, busy at the kettle. Jamie, grimacing, sinks slowly down in her old seat as if pulled by magnetic force. “But I know how much you must miss Edmund. Even after it all...you know. He still loves you so much, Danielle.”

"I’ll bet,” Jamie says in a low voice. Dani kicks her very gently under the table, amused when Jamie arches a brow that says oh, there will be consequences for that later. 

Can’t wait, she thinks with a dizzy, rather inappropriate burst of desire, her hand creeping over to rest on Jamie’s knee. There’s a stabilizing sensation to the act, reminding her in no uncertain terms: this is who she is now. This, not Eddie’s long-lost girl, but someone lucky enough to be so in love with Jamie, it sometimes puts an ache into her chest. 

“Not to say you should be getting back together,” Judy says, running steel straight up Dani’s spine. 

“You--you aren’t?”

“Oh, Danielle, it’s been such a long time. I’d be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, you know, when it happened--but I always thought, in the back of my mind, how many childhood sweethearts really work out? You grow up. You grow apart. It’s natural.”

Jamie is grinning, biting the inside of her cheek, her knee beginning to shudder under Dani’s palm as her boot rocks against the tile floor. Dani squeezes harder.

“Well, that’s--that’s sort of the thing,” she says. “The reason we wanted to visit. We, um. We’ve--well--”

Judy is doing that mom thing she’s always admired, carrying three steaming mugs to the table without spilling a drop. She takes a seat across from them, beaming with every inch of her face, and Dani thinks, Love. This is what love looks like. This will be okay. 

“Judy, I--I wanted you to be the first to--I mean...”

There are words here, she knows with frustration. Words, not even so big or so complicated, if only she can pluck them from the air. Just say it, Dani. Just say--

“I never thanked you properly,” Jamie says. Her voice is impossibly steady, her face passive. Beneath the table, her leg has stopped its jittering dance at last. Judy looks surprised, Dani’s teeth clacking shut on her own stammering. 

“Why do you say that, dear?”

“’Cause it’s true,” Jamie says simply. “Never did. All those years of feedin’ me, keeping clothes on my back, never once making me feel...unwanted. Didn’t have to do that, Judy. No one was making you.”

Judy’s surprise is inching toward some emotion Dani can’t quite pinpoint--pleasure, that Jamie is saying this now, or pain, that Jamie thinks for a second she wasn’t worth it. “Sweetheart, of course I--I mean, you’re my kid. You know that.”

“Wasn’t, though,” Jamie says, almost earnestly. She’s leaning across the table, her hand moving to press Judy’s. “Was just some wee mess stumbling into your life, wasn’t I? And not always grateful, besides. I was--I don’t know what I was, half the time, but I was always lucky. So fucking--sorry, sorry, so utterly lucky. Was smart enough, at least, to figure that out.”

Judy’s cheeks are bright, her eyes brimming. She seems quite unable to speak, which Jamie seems to take as a relief. Her voice is rolling with surprising emotion, pushing a little faster than is normal, save for her most vulnerable moments. 

“I was lucky you took me in, and lucky your family was willing to open up for one more. And I was...really lucky for this one.” Her eyes cut to Dani, her foot curling beneath the table around Dani’s ankle. “You brought me to her. Don’t think I can ever be grateful enough for that.”

Judy looks almost puzzled, though she’s smiling. “I’m glad to hear it. I always had a feeling, you know. That...you were a good match, somehow. You balance out. It’s important, having a friend like that.”

Friend, thinks Dani with a mouth gone dry. Best friend, sure. Best friend I can’t imagine ever being without again. 

“You brought me to her,” Jamie repeats, almost stubborn, though she’s smiling. “I’ve never loved anyone more. Don’t think I could, given all the time in the world.”

The air seems to go still, the kitchen suddenly rife with small noises Dani’s never noticed before. The hum of the refrigerator. The trickle of water down the drain through a leaky faucet. The tap of Judy’s slipper against the floor. 

“Please say something,” Jamie says. “I don’t honestly know how to--”

“Eddie had an idea,” Judy says quietly. “When you were all still, gosh, back in high school. Long time ago, it seems now.”

Dani is nodding reflexively. Jamie isn’t moving at all.

“There was...a party? I think. Almost didn’t let you all go, it was against my best judgement, but--I figured, if you were together, what harm could come of it? And then Eddie came home early. Tried to pretend he wasn’t drunk, like he’s ever been good at lying, and wasn’t angry.”

Her voice is almost dreamy with memory, her back leaning against the chair as she raises the mug to her lips. She isn’t quite looking at either of them.

“I asked him where you two were. I remember being furious that he’d leave you alone. And I remember, very clearly, him saying something strange. Danielle doesn’t need me when she’s got her. I remember that so well. Danielle doesn’t need me when she’s got her.”

Jamie swallows audibly. Her hand is still resting on the table, inches from where Judy’s was not so long ago. She looks as though she’d very much like to give in to the oldest Jamie-urge in the book, to push up and bolt from the house without looking back. Dani traces her kneecap through her jeans, fingers pressing firmly until Jamie draws a deep breath. 

“I thought it was so odd,” Judy goes on. “That he’d say something like that. But he wasn’t in his right mind, and by the time I heard you sneak in--yes, Jamie, you were never as subtle as you thought, dear--he was fast asleep. No one said anything else about it, and I thought maybe you’d just gotten into a fight. Young love is like that. It can be so jealous.”

Not always, Dani thinks. If Jamie was jealous--and she’s sure she was, to a point; there are some feelings too big and too natural to ward off completely--she tried not to let it show. Jamie’s love has always been sunlight, reassuring and steady and there even when clouds roll in. 

“This is why,” Judy says, looking Dani in the eye. “Isn’t it?”

“Why he was mad?”

“Why you broke it off.” Her eyes never blink, never stray, her gaze as solid as the table. “You said it was because you didn’t love him the right way. I didn’t understand what that meant, but I knew you knew. Always knew your own mind, Danielle. It’s one of the things I’m most proud of.”

Dani breathes, trying hard to quell the dizzy rush in her head. “Judy, I--”

“She doesn’t think she needs anyone taking care of her,” Judy goes on, like she hasn’t spoken. “Never did, even when she barely came up to my hip. Always thought she had it handled.” Her gaze slides to Jamie’s face, her lips curving. “Isn’t that right?”

“Right,” Jamie says, sounding breathless. 

“But you took care of her anyway. Every step of the way. Wouldn’t listen to me or anyone else, but she always listened to you, didn’t she?”

“Right,” Dani says, a helpless grin working onto her face. This feels like a dream. This feels like a story not quite within her own control. Judy sighs, sips her tea. 

“Well. There’s nothing more to it, then, is there?”

“There isn’t?” Dani asks. Judy pushes up from the table, shaking her head. 

“I only have one question.”

The silence is too loud, punctuated by hum and drip and tap. The silence is going to drive her crazy, Dani believes, and drive Jamie to run, and this is all going to fall apart because she so desperately needed for Judy O’Mara to know them--

“Will you be staying the night?”

“What?” Jamie says, in the same moment Dani blurts, “Sorry?”

“Staying the night,” Judy repeats. “Jamie, we’ve converted your room into a sort of hodgepodge storage-guest combination, but you can just throw all those boxes into the hall. I don’t suppose you’ll be needing the sleeping bag.”

“I--” Jamie is shaking her head very slowly, as though trying to clear water from her ears. “I--no, we’ve got...a hotel...”

“Oh, that’s just silly.” Judy waves a dismissive hand. “You’ll take the room. No sense spending money, you already came home.”

Home, Dani thinks, her heart pounding. Home, here, in the O’Mara house--an address she’d never quite claimed, but the place where all her fondest memories live all the same. The place she grew up. The place that brought her to Jamie. 

“Have you stopped in to see your mother yet?” Judy asks. “I can invite her to dinner, if you like, I haven’t caught up with her in...months, now, probably--”

“You’re not,” Jamie begins, the words drying up before they can truly escape. Judy pauses at the sink, her hand tipping the remnants of her tea toward the drain. 

“Not what, sweetheart?”

That word, more than anything, seems to unbind Jamie’s calm. That word, a simple endearment spread back through their lives like so much love in two syllables, belonging to Judy and Judy alone. Jamie swallows again, presses a hand to her jaw, closes her eyes.

“Upset,” she croaks at last. Judy raises an eyebrow. 

“My kids are happy. What on earth would I be upset about?”

It’s not a good time, Dani thinks as Jamie slumps against the table in mingled relief and exhaustion, to say I told you so. Later, she thinks--when they’re nestled in a bed just a little too small for their adult frames, when Jamie is looking up at her with glazed delight, when they’re trying their best to make a kiss sound like silence. Maybe she’ll do it then. I told you she loved you. I told you. 

Now, watching Jamie slide from the table, move across the kitchen in a daze, slip her arms around Judy in a firm hug, Dani thinks--not for the first time--that family is as much a choice as it is a gift. That Judy has always chosen well. That Jamie has learned from the best. 

Told you, she thinks, feeling perfectly at peace. 

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, promoting, encouraging, justifying nor romanticizing yandere behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationships, yandere behavior, bullying, harassment, blackmail, sexual scenes, abusive relationship, manipulation, verbal abuse, abortion, attempted murder.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟼𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟹 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟾 𝙵𝚝.

𝙰𝚐𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■□90%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□80%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚃𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

𝙰𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜/𝚘.

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 .

𝚄𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜.

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚢.

𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You had known him for the longest time, probably since you were both learning the alphabet.

Even back then he was a troublesome boy.

Loved to dip your hair in paint, pour glue inside your backpack.

Or always pushed you off the swings cause he wanted to play in it.

This didn't really faze you back then.

Most of the boys that age played such tricks on almost all the girls.

They all had a specific target and you were Wooyoung's.

You remember telling this one day to your mom, who simply chuckled.

"Honey, boys tend to tease the girls they have a crush on."

You remember looking at her with confusion.

How could they treat someone they like with such utter disrespect and rudeness?

"Because they don't know how to express their feelings."

Like an idiot you believed that, and being the naive little girl you were, you kinda started developing a crush on him.

You remember the first time you talked back to him, it's engraved in your head because it was the first time of many to come where his words, and actions, hurt you.

"Just admit you like me Wooyoung! You only tease me cause you're in love with me."

You remember the rage and disgust in his eyes as he shoved you to the ground, making you scrape your knee on the pavement.

"Get this through that dumb brain of yours Y/N....

No one will ever love a dirty little rat like you."

You came home crying that day. Hurt physically and emotionally at his words.

And the years to come weren't better, as you grew up, Wooyoung's bullying towards you escalated.

You hoped that after you graduated high school and started going to university, you'd be free from him, never see him again.

You could finally be happy for once in your life. Focus on your goals and career.

Everything was going great for you!.......

Until you walked into class and found out not only had Wooyoung been accepted to the same university...

He was majoring in the same field as you!

"Hey dirty little rat. Missed me?"

His cocky smile sent shivers down your spine, you were already fearing what he had in store for you.

If you thought high school was hell, it was nowhere near as awful as the torment Wooyoung was now putting on you.

Tripping you down the stairs to the point you had severe injuries.

Writing nasty and derogatory names on your desk that now wouldn't come off and you'd be forced to look at every time you went to class.

One time he went as far as stealing your assignments, ultimately leading to failing an entire semester.

You were so heartbroken and just done with his shit. You felt no more motivation to even continue studying.

Until a cute boy named Yeonjun transferred and took an interest in you.

He was super nice, friendly and not to mention good looking and hella tall.

It was more than obvious too that he wanted establish a relationship with you, anyone and everyone could see that.

Especially Wooyoung and he did not look the way someone else was making you happy.

So he devised a plan, not caring how messed up it was.

He made sure someone convinced you to go to a party he'd be at.

You found it odd that he was suddenly acting super nice to you, not even calling you those mild nicknames he called you in front of others.

And it shocked you even more when he suddenly apologized to you for everything he'd done to you, even offering to talk to your professor about your assignment.

His eyes seemed so sincere, you actually believed him.

Perhaps he finally decided to change, realized his behavior was unnecessary and immature and of course, like an idiot you accepted his apology.

You got wasted for the first time in your life that night and could not remember anything at all.

Until Wooyoung was 'kind' enough to brief you in on what happened.

He pulled out his phone and made you watch a video he had filmed of you two that night.

Your stomach hurled over as you realized it was a fucking sex tape, you and Wooyoung had actually fucked that night.

"What! No no! This couldn't have happened! There's no way!" You refused to believe it.

Wooyoung just smirked at you.

"Oh but it did happen kitten. You were so eager too as the video displays, you kept asking me to go harder, begging me for another round and wanting my cum all over you..."

"I wonder what would the whole school say if I posted it online....especially Yeonjun."

Now you realized what his game was. He was never sorry. It was just another form of him to torture you, and this tipped the scale.

You were so shaken up, you got down on your knees and begged him not to show anyone the video.

"Please Wooyoung! I'll do anything! Anything!"

"Anything?......really? How about becoming mine then?"

And now you were forever tied to your worst nightmare.

Wooyoung especially enjoyed seeing Yeonjun's disappointed and heartbroken look when he announced that you two were now dating.

Now he couldn't even look at you anymore, feeling somewhat betrayed by your actions.

You wanted to tell him you were sorry and explain to him what was going on, but Wooyoung had eyes on you 24/7.

He even made you move in with him and now even your free time had to be spent with him.

You hated living with him.

He not only made sure to verbally abuse you, but actually seemed to have fun causing tiny accidents to happen around you.

His favorite was when he'd peer over your shoulder as you tried to study.

He scoffed. "Why even bother if all you'll ever be good at is spreading your legs?"

Those were his favorite insults: "whore" "slut" "bitch".

One time you were just so fed up with him, that you ended up snapping back.

"Shut the fuck up Wooyoung! You're such an insufferable piece of shit, no wonder your mom left you and your dad back in middle school."

As soon as the words came out, you wanted to swallow them back in.

Wooyoung was livid at your words.

He not only yanked you up by your hair, but he actually threw you to the floor and started kicking you harshly.

He didn't kick you for too long though, he did not want to risk anyone questioning when he told them you fell down the stairs.

And especially not take you to the hospital.

You had no choice but to stay home as you tried to recuperate.

You remember one of those days, you came home from a quick trip to the convenience store and found some girl blowing Wooyoung on the couch.

You weren't fazed. He often brought girls home and fucked them right in front of you.

You just sighed and decided to ignore the shit eating grin he'd give you whenever you caught him.

You decided long ago it wasn't worth it.

You two weren't even dating cause you wanted to.

He just loved controlling you, having power over you, holding something over your head.

He had this obsessive need to make you miserable.

And you hated that you had no choice but to allow it.

Even when there were things you didn't want to do, you had to or he'd once again blackmail you.

The one time you adamantly refused to was when you found out you were pregnant.

Wooyoung was just as shocked as you.

"And you're telling me I'm the father?"

"Uh......I can't have sex with anyone who isn't you, obviously you're the father."

Wooyoung couldn't let you go through with the pregnancy.

"Get rid of it." He told you.

You wrapped a protective hand around your bump.

"No! This is my baby and I won't allow you to harm it!"

You weren't going to budge though.

"Show the tape to everyone! I don't give a fuck anymore! But I'm not killing an innocent child who has done nothing wrong. "

Realizing he was losing control of you, Wooyoung knocked you out unconscious, deciding to take matters into your own hands.

You woke up a day later, feeling sore and aching in your inner thighs and lower abdomen.

You immediately panicked and sensed something was wrong.

You didn't need Wooyoung to tell you, you knew he had taken you to a clinic and had the baby removed.

You were so shaken up, cried your eyes out and no longer had any will to fight against Wooyoung.

You felt like it all all your fault, the death of your baby was your fault.

You weren't strong enough to save it and it was killing you inside.

You no longer trusted anyone, and you didn't have the heart to talk about it to anyone. Not like they'd believe you or care about you.

But someone did notice, Yeonjun never stopped caring about you and although he was hurt you went with someone else, he still had feelings for you.

And he was very observant and noticed that ever since you started dating Wooyoung, you were skipping a lot of classes....

And you were having a lot of accidents...too many in fact.

And now he just saw you completely lost and like a walking dead.

"Hey Y/N, are you ok?" He asked you one day.

You were going to respond, but the devil made an appearance by your side.

"She's fine and was just coming home with me. Weren't you baby?"

To everyone, it looked like a sweet and caring smile from your doting boyfriend, but you knew it was all fake.

Nonetheless you just kept your head low and went home with him.

Yeonjun noticed the way you trembled when he put his arm around you, noticed the frightened look in your eyes and he knew something was wrong in your relationship.

When you got home, Wooyoung was pissed off at you and immediately struck your face.

"I thought I told you not to talk to him! Can't you obey a simple order you fucking bitch?!"

When he pulled out a knife from the kitchen, you were now scared for your life.

You tried to fight back, but Wooyoung was stronger than you and you were still in pain after the abortion.

He knocked you to the floor and managed to land 2 stab wounds into your right side.

You could never forget the wrath and hate in his eyes as he told you:

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

By some miracle, someone taller and stronger than Wooyoung got him off you, that someone being none other than Yeonjun.

He felt glad about following his hunch and followed you both back home, otherwise he'd end up reading about you in the newspaper.

He had no trouble in subduing Wooyoung and calling the police.

The only thing on his mind was getting you to the hospital as soon as possible.

"It's ok Y/N. You're going to be fine." He assured you

Your physical injuries were easy to recover from, but the emotional trauma and abuse Wooyoung put you through was not.

Yet Yeonjun was there every step of the way, going with you to therapy and just listening to you and your terrifying story.

For the first time in your life, you felt truly loved and happy....

And safe.

A year after the ordeal, you were doing much better and were nearly fully recuperated.

Yeonjun and you rented a place together and were completely in love with each other.

Everything seemed to be going perfect....

And then one day your phone rang.

Picking up, you asked "Hello?"

"Don't think it's over yet you dirty little rat."

[anika-ann]

3+1 (Un)Wanted Mistletoe Encounters

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 4200

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary:  Kissing under the mistletoe is one of the most famous Christmas traditions; so obviously, it is not Christmas without it at the Tower.

Unfortunately for the occupants, you are not fond of the tradition – at all. 

...or are you?

Warnings: cliché trope, pushy Pietro, discussion of dub-con I guess, language, fluff

A/N: Idea born from this video where John Mulaney says: “If any decoration needs to be MeToo’ed…” and goes on.

Beatiful divider by firefly-graphics

1.

You were no Grinch.

In fact, you actually liked Christmas and the Holiday season, you enjoyed both giving and receiving and you appreciated when people found time to spend it together, whether in their own family circle or with their chosen one.

But. There was one significant ‘but’.

And with this being your first Christmas with the Avengers, Sam Wilson was about to learn about the said but first-hand, because that sweet kind-hearted dumbass with a sass streak walked right into it.

Quite literally.

December 23th, you woke up well-rested, got breakfast, wrapped several presents and were on your way to hunt down a lunch in the communal kitchen, when a voice stopped you in the doorway, where you nearly ran into Sam. Nearly.

“Ah-oh,” he hummed, a shit-eating grin spreading on his handsome face and you stopped dead in your tracks, frowning at the ominous sound.

“What?”

And then came the fateful words: “You’re standing under a mistletoe.”

You see, here was a thing; the tradition of hanging a mistletoe and meeting people under it by chance as an excuse to get a kiss from someone was… stupid. Downright idiotic. Pushing people into something they didn’t have a chance to back out from. Forced affection.

Yeah, that was not happening even if Sam was a real swell guy and you did find a newly hung mistletoe above your heads indeed as you briefly looked up to check if his words were true.

“Okay. And?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, his tone turning slightly wavering.

“…And so am I?”

“And?” you continued, crossing your arms on your chest defensively, already preparing a rant that would hopefully spread like wildfire and ended this dumb tradition altogether. Or well, at least spread around the Tower so no one would ever try to corner you again.

“Really?” Sam deadpanned and you stared right back at him, your face probably displaying precisely how you felt; unimpressed.

“Yes, really,” you emphasized and pointed up at the offensive plant for a good measure. “This is a stupid concept, objectifying people, women especially. It’s about people being forced into showing affection they might not even feel. It’s bordering on a damn dub-con if not non-con.”

Sam blinked a few times, instinctively retreating as he felt you heating up. He raised his hands in a no-harm gesture to show he got your point.

But you were already on roll and you glimpsed Tony in the kitchen, so you thought that there was no harm in him hearing your speech too, just to make sure that the smug loveable bastard of a billionaire got the message as well.

“It’s like all those poor kids being asked why don’t you give your granny a hug before we go and a kiss to your granddad— well, it’s because I don’t want to and it’s my choice to give affection to someone! And now this thing, this is the tip of the iceberg, really, the last fucking drop- it needs to be Me Too’ed, I swear.”

You found yourself panting as you finished, your hands on your hips now – not that you realized you had put them there – and your belly hot and angry for some inexplicable reason; maybe it was the fact that it was Sam, amazing, friendly and understanding Sam Wilson, who had to go and point this stupid poisonous plant out for you; and have the audacity to ask for a kiss.

Dammit!

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he apologized sincerely, voice kind and without any hint of hurt or mockery. “It won’t happen again. I see that you might have a point in this.”

All the fight instantly left your body, replaced by warmth of friendship, mingling with a shiver of shame for your quick judgement and outburst. You sighed, easing your posture and offering and apologetic smile in return.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a big deal of that-“

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re kinda right.”

“Damn right I am,” you hummed, feeling the corners of your lips rise automatically as Sam chuckled and shook his head at your antics.

But hey – you were right. You were not sorry for that.

Still snickering to himself, Sam sidestepped you in the door and patted your shoulder.

As you continued your path as well, you would swear you heard Tony mutter under his breath that you were a Grinch.

Jerk.

2.

“Hey! Don’t I get a kiss?” Clint called out a complaint as you met both stepped into that damn doorway at the same time.

As he pointed up, all you could do was to sigh, close your eyes and count to ten.

It had only been like four hours maybe; perhaps the word hadn’t gotten to him yet that you were not a fan of making out with random people – even if they were family – just because it was Christmas; or as Tony had put it, that you were a Grinch.

Personally, you thought that his insult had been inaccurate; you had given it a thought. Maybe you were more of a Scrooge. Perhaps you should tell him next time you saw him, just to see his face; Tony did pride in his ability to come up with witty nicknames.

You almost spitted out Bah, humbug now, just because.

“No, you don’t,” you said flatly instead, causing Clint’s jaw to quite literally drop as he looked at you with indignation and horror in his eyes.

“But--- but- mistletoe!” he stuttered and you sighed, deciding to explain it to him too – patiently.

“Why should some stupid plant tell me when someone is worth my affection? Someone who allegedly deserved it by simply standing under the same plant as me, no less? Get. Out. Not happening.”

You winced a bit as you registered the snappy tone you used.

Well. Half of the task of explaining it to him patiently went right, you’d call that a success, you supposed.

The poor archer just blinked, staring at you dumbfounded and mildly hurt; as if you had just told him that Santa Claus was nothing but a trick. Phew, as if you were that heartless…

Just-- logic. In fact, you had given this tradition a generous amount of thought since your last encounter under it and you figured out where it came from, historical inaccuracy be damned.

“I mean, where did the idea even come from? I bet it was just because some dude saw another guy mouth-to-mouth a girl, who happened to eat some of this poisonous parasite, may I add, and she was dying, so he gave her rescue breaths before continuing CPR. And the dude thought, that’s a great idea! Let’s make this a habit, just without the poisoning! Yeah, no. You’re not getting a kiss, Clinton,” you finished, satisfied with yourself as you managed to sound calmer this time.

Also, you were kinda proud of yourself for coming up with this story; it seemed very likely.

“That’s, uhm… an interesting take on history,” Clint hummed, watching you with uncertainty and hesitance and your heart stumbled in your chest as you guessed he was about to say something… cheeky, and outraging, in his cute brotherly way. “I need a hug at least tho.”

There we go.

“Nice try.”

You smirked and sidestepped him to be on your way and almost bumped into Steve, quickly shooting him a smile and disappearing out of sight before a silly idea about him and the stupid plant could form in your head – that would be bad and highly inappropriate, as was your crush on him, not to even mention your feelings—bah -!

“What did you do to her?” you heard the sweet supersoldier ask, a hint of accusation in his voice. Your smile widened, heat rising to your cheeks. Always so chivalrous; your heart could fucking melt.

“I asked for a hug after she refused to give me a kiss under a mistletoe,” Clint ratted you out, still hurt and honestly confused.

You stopped in your tracks as you rounded a corner, chewing on your lip guiltily.

Poor Clint; perhaps you had gone too hard on him… he couldn’t have known. You had to be kinder about it next time – after all, you might have been with them for almost a year now and they made you feel like you fit despite being so-so late to the Avengers party, but all of you still had things to learn about each other.

“Ah, you haven’t heard from Sam. Sorry,” Steve’s voice reached your ear, a notch kinder than before, compassionate even.

Compassion; another quality of Steve’s that you loved-

Bah, HUMBUG, that is not that, the L word is a bit much, that is not what’s happening-

“Wait, you knew- oh… Yeah, a heads-up would be nice,” Clint grumbled and made a pregnant pause, the sign of another prefect line coming. You held your breath in anticipation. “So are you gonna give me a hug or should I just get coffee, aka the hug in a cup-“

You held back laugher and swallowed the fondness for the good-natured archer before you could rush back and give him the damn hug.

“Coffee’s always a safe choice,” Steve replied and you thought you heard a chuckle and a grunt, unable to supress a giggle as you jogged away before they could notice you were still within hearing range.

Clint’s following monologue faded away as you walked.

“Nobody likes me. Nobody. I’m gonna die alone, surrounded by people who are too emotionally constipated to give a man a damn hug…”

Yeah, maybe you should give him a hug next time you saw him… no mistletoe though.

3.

You truly believed that that would be the end of it; after all, a day had passed since the first incident, the incident that was left without a kiss, and you doubted anyone was out of the loop at this point.

That was stupid of you. Naïve even. You jinxed it.

You were just after light breakfast, ready to get a little work out in – complete with tacky remixes of Christmas songs prepared to cheer you up – when the supposedly fastest man in the Tower, and possibly the whole world, pretty much bumped into you.

And he had to bump into you just as you were walking through that fucking doorway with that fucking plant which you were supposed to put down right after the encounter with Sam, dammit.

But no, you didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun; in fact, Clint had taken it his personal mission to meet as many people as he could under the mistletoe to get a kiss… or a hug. Wanda hapilly shared affection with others, either kissing their cheek of hugging them. People were having fun.

So, obviously, you let it be, confident everyone knew better than to corner you.

No good deed ever went unpunished, especially in the Holiday season.

Pietro grinned as he spotted you, downright delighted, and spread his arms almost as if creating a cage around you, leaving very little room to escape.

You did not like that.

“A kiss for a guy who caught you under a mistletoe?” he hummed warmly with a sprinkle of cheek and despite his cheery demeanour, you couldn’t help yourself and rolled your eyes.

“In your dreams, Maximoff,” you huffed, trying to duck under his arm, only for him to move it so quickly it was only a blur to you.

Quick to move, slow to take a hint. Yep, that kind of behaviour had Pietro written all over it… Okay, now you were being mean, but he was being an ass, grinning wider and adding a wink to the mix, so it was only fair.

“How did you know? I thought it was just my sister who was telepathic?”

“Pietro, leave her alone,” Wanda spoke as if on cue, eyeing her brother with a frown from her spot behind the counter where she was trying to figure out a recipe for a special Christmas pastry from her old country.

A hint of a pout appeared on Pietro’s lips as he reciprocated Wanda’s gaze; unfortunately for you, he was still aware enough of you attempting to escape his cage, so far without using force; though you were inclined to violence should it be necessary.

“What?! It’s tradition! I thought Americans loved that!”

“Well, not all of us, so-“ you explained with a sigh, catching a glimpse of Steve as he now looked up from his spot on the couch where he had been nestled with a sketchbook for the past twenty minutes.

“I could kiss you before you even notice,” Pietro argued smugly, his expression earning a wolf-like edge as you glared back at him.

Well, it seemed your workout was just about to start, you thought, as you balled your hand into a fist, subtly testing the readiness of the muscles of your leg, prepared to kick the damn man-child to his shin or worse.

“She said no.”

Both your and Pietro’s heads snapped to Steve, who was watching the other man with intense displeasure, all complete with the mildly adorable wrinkle on his forehead – a sign of disappointment and irritation – and a voice that carried the gravity of a Captain’s order.

Which in this situation stirred something in your belly, warmth swelling in your chest as he rushed to your rescue; one not needed, but still appreciated. You didn’t react to Steve’s words aside from giving him a quick grateful smile and shooting Pietro a childish told-you-so look.

“She doesn’t have to do things just because it’s considered a tradition. Leave her be, Pietro,” Steve added, less snappy and simply requesting from the speedster to have a tiny bit of respect for your wishes.

Pietro was most definitely pouting now, but he dropped his arms and released you, still blocking the doorway.

“This is ridiculous,” Pietro muttered under his breath, only for you to hear and you gritted your teeth, irritation spiking again.

“You are being ridiculous. Now move or I swear I’ll slap you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Eagle.”

Oh, we’re doing nicknames now? He could use your title earned by being fast and occasionally deadly all he wanted, flattery would get him nowhere at this point.

“Wouldn’t even see it coming, Speedyboy,” you challenged, chin raised in defiance.

It was ironic, really, how much everyone seemed to insist on following this stupid tradition, even with you. At this point, it was practically everyone but Steve; everyone but the one person you’d be willing to kiss – mistletoe or not, though the plant would at least give you an excuse.

But nope, you just had to get stuck in the doorway with this moron instead.

“Ooookay, you two,” Natasha sing-sang, as she was approaching you from the corridor; you completely missed her arriving, that was how much Pietro irritated you. “Maximoff, move, you’re blocking the doorway. And if you corner her like this again, I’ll kill you in your sleep and you’ll never see that coming,” she promised, voice icily serious despite the twinkle in her eye.

You had no doubt she would deliver just what she promised.

Which was exactly why you leaned over to kiss her cheek, earning a brilliant smile from her and a light brush of her lips against your own cheek.

“Thanks, kotenok,” she hummed just as Pietro gaped and complained.

“That’s so unfair.”

You smirked at him, throwing the smugness he had treated you with right back at him as you went to walk away.

“I give affection to whoever I want and whenever I want. Let your super quick brain process that. Happy Holidays.”

You completely missed the slow smile that spread on Wanda’s face at one point of the whole exchange.

+1

You decided to stop walking through that damn doorway altogether – just in case.

But at the moment, no one was around, so you made an exception since you considered yourself safe. Though main part of the feeling of security was that you didn’t think there was anyone left of the Tower tenants (who didn’t pay rent at all, somehow) who wasn’t aware of your opinion on the dumb tradition. No one who would be stupid enough to try.

Yet, when you glimpsed a large figure about to walk through the doorway just as you were few feet from it, you halted in your steps, letting them pass first.

And then there was a gust of wind, a warning coming a second too late and a harsh push to your shoulder from behind.

“Running through!”

You, the newest addition to the Earth’s mightiest heroes, Eagle, known for her quick reactions and not losing her cool easily, only managed to yelp in fright as you were knocked over, unable to hold onto anything and falling straight to the ground.

Two strong hands caught you and pulled you back up before you could hit the floor and you gasped, head spinning from the swift movements-- only to blink your eyes open to meet the prettiest pair of eyes you had ever seen; determined, kind, compassionate, loveable. And so damn blue despite the drop of green in their irises.

Your heart was trying to beat its way out of your ribcage as Steve instinctively pressed his chest against yours, holding you close and secure, grasp firm but careful.

Your gaze couldn’t but wander all over his face as you found yourself in such close quarters with him, his own eyes and his lips – gosh, those lips – working as magnets, always alluring your gaze to linger.

“You okay?”

Mesmerized, you watched those lips to move, barely comprehending what he was asking. His voice was warm; honey sweet and rich in spice, delicious, causing your stomach to flip pleasantly, your heart stammer.

It might have taken you a while to stutter out a reply, but no one ever needed to know about that.

“Uhm… yeah. Thanks-- thanks to you… thank you.”

Steve graced you with a small but no less meaningful smile. “Of course.”

Torturously slowly – as if he didn’t want to let you go any more than you wanted him to – he helped you stand straight and let go of your arms.

The moment you lost his touch, you lost your sanity too. You must have.

Before you could change your mind – or to think anything through – you leaned back to him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. And perhaps on instinct, you kinda aimed more for the corner of his mouth than the cheek.

He felt warm now too – the tips of his ears turned red in an instant and you, with horror, finally realized what you had done; and just how good it felt to finally show at least a little of what you had been trying to ignore and hide for so long.

Despite his apparent surprise and mild embarrassment, his smile widened a fraction, turning pleased.

“What was that for?” he asked lowly, gaze intense as he studied your face, a hint of a glow in his eyes, something brighter than hadn’t been there before. Hope, maybe?

You certainly hoped. Because you just made an ass of yourself, having acted without thought… and it never felt so good and so awkward at the same time.

Your brain had never been so quick and dumb to come up with a poor excuse either.

“We’re…. we’re under a mistletoe?” you offered reluctantly, your lips still burning after the brief contact with his, head once again nearly spinning due to the proximity – was it just the dizziness or was he leaning in closer?

“I thought you didn’t follow that tradition,” Steve hummed with a grin slowly spreading on his face and through the fog of lovesickness, it finally dawned to you.

You had done exactly what you scolded Sam, Clint and Pietro for – you just went and kissed Steve, no questions asked, no consideration of his possible discomfort.

God, you were such an idiot!

See, that’s why you have banned yourself for as much as imagining kissing Steve and meeting him under the mistletoe! Because when your brain went down that road, it stopped working altogether!

You swiftly retreated a few inches, horrified.

“I—I don’t. I mean. I-- I-I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, words spilling from your lips as the panic rose in your chest. And yet, there was warmth, a pleasant feeling coiling in your belly, breaths coming out short as Steve seemed to erase the distance you had created, his gaze studying you, landing on your mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that! What was I thinking—gosh, I didn’t want to make you-“

You stopped as Steve’s lips kept erasing the distance and ended up a breath from touching yours, tempting, his eyes shining bright with a simple unspoken question. You instinctively licked your lips, heart stumbling in your ribcage.  

“---uncomfortable. Yes, please-“

And then he was kissing you, a little smile playing on his lips as they danced with yours, sweet and soft, hand moving to your nape, thumb caressing the side crook of your neck, drawing a content sigh from you as your eyes fluttered shut, letting you sink into the kiss you had been craving for almost a year.

Your hands sought out his shoulders as he cradled your face, gentle and guiding so he could take more and all you wanted was to give it to him, give him everything he asked for and take it from him too.

Your toes definitely curled in the thick fluffy socks you wore when his fingers squeezed your nape briefly before he withdrew – as if he once again didn’t want to let go for something so boring as oxygen. You wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment, dizzy from the blissful turn of events.

As you inhaled nevertheless, you were grateful that Steve stayed close enough for you to breathe in him, relieved and delighted smile on your face as you licked your lips, savouring the sensation.

When you met his gaze, you saw nothing but fondness; and your heart could melt.

Steve liked you too. Steve kissed you like he meant it. Now you could die a happy woman but you rather not. You’d rather kiss him again if he was willing.

“Still sorry I did it without asking first,” you whispered an apology even though you were not sorry at all since it led to this.

“It’s okay. I just hope it wasn’t just the tradition that pushed you into kissing back.”

You chuckled and then chewed on your lower lip when thinking of a propriate retort, not missing that his eyes followed the action. Oh, he definitely liked to back, okay. Why had you never kissed before, again?

“I only give affection to whoever I want, whenever I want,” you threw back at him, the words that had a whole new meaning in contrast to when being told to Pietro; not a turn-down, quite the opposite in fact.

And you leaned in, greedy for at least one more kiss, Steve just watched you with a smile, eyes flickering to your lips.

“That’s good to know.”

He didn’t sound like he complained at being at the receiving end of your affection whatsoever.

Maybe, mistletoe wasn’t so stupid after all…

Three rooms over, the red-haired witch was smiling widely as she, thanks to her mental powers, caught a glimpse of what was happening in the kitchen doorway.

“It worked,” she announced, blinking to fully return herself to the present. “Nice work this time, brat moy.”

Pietro scowled at Wanda and couldn’t but wonder about the plan she had orchestrated and asked him to execute.

“How did you know, sestra?”

Wanda just shrugged.

“I had my suspicions before. But when you ran into her the last time, I checked her mind to see just how uncomfortable you made her,” she explained, giving one more scolding glare for his inappropriate behaviour. But well, it led to this and he helped now, so… he was good. “She literally thought she wouldn’t mind being under the mistletoe with the Captain.”

“Lucky bastard,” Pietro muttered, expression only half-sour.

“Shush. Be happy for your teammates. You just flirt anyway.”

The speedster pouted, but didn’t protest; he in fact was happy for the two members of the extended family him and his sister had found. And he indeed was only flirting, enjoying your reactions, talking back and teasing. It was all good fun and he did wish you and the Captain well…

But.

“Well, yeah, but now I won’t be able to do that or to look at her twice. Not without Captain having my head,” he grumbled and Wanda nodded with a grin, not feeling all that bad for him.

It wasn’t like he had his heart broken – more like had his ego tickled; and he had been needing some of that for a while.

“That’s true. Looks like you gotta be faster with the next girl you get your eye on, brat.”

The speedster gasped, shocked at her audacity. “I’ll show you fast-!”

Wanda laughed as she used her powers to freeze him on spot to get a head start.

Now, the Holidays felt truly happy indeed.

S.R. Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

If this fic feels like it’s written differently, then I guess that’s fair… I tried to make the style more drabble-like and failed epically, because I just cannot write short and without too many feelings :D

Anyway.

Happy Holidays to you all! May you be given love and affection!

[tma-thoughts]

I wrote s5 Jon going back in time to s1 and smiting Elias, told from the perspective of s1 Jon. Also I couldn't be bothered to write the beginning or a sound ending so take this I guess

"Do you think you can beat me, Archivist?" Elias asks, a smile tugging at his thin lips. He steps forward, his eyes glowing bright green in the dim light of the Archives. "I know everything you don't."

At this, the Archivist huffs out a laugh, chuckling until it sounds more like a strained cry. "Is that supposed to scare me, Jonah?" He asks smugly. An eye opens on his forehead, then another on his cheek, then a cluster on the back of his neck, and others, surely, beneath his clothes. They all glow a bright, piercing green. Jon takes a cautious step back.

"I see you've learned some fancy tricks," Elias says, "Is that all?"

"Hardly."

"What do you think you can really do to me?"

Elias' words are heavy on Jon's ears. His voice resonates in the room, bouncing through his mind. The Archivist seems unfazed, though, and starts laughing again. It takes him a good couple of seconds to gather himself, like Elias had just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"Did you just try to compel me, Jonah?" He asks, his chuckle still laced throughout his words. "You should know better than that. You don't have power over power itself."

There's a shocked look on Elias's face, but his eyebrows furrow as it's clear he tries to hide it. He takes a protective step back.

"Do you think you can actually scare me?" The Archivist asks, "I've seen horrors unknown to even the Eye itself. You simply serve fear, allow it a vessel through which to feed. I am fear. I am the monster under your bed, I am the thing that goes bump in the night, I am the thing that watches you as you sleep. I plunge fear into the very hearts of innocent people while you are simply a leech, watching--always watching."

He steps closer to Elias, and Jon can see Elias' face begin to sweat. He'd only ever seen the man as cool and professional--if not incredibly boring. To think that Jon from approximately five years down the line could do something like this is almost too much.

"You strike fear by telling people what they refuse to believe. You make them See their mistakes, their pasts, their hidden truths. All you do is suck Knowledge like a vampiric leech and throw it back at your unsuspecting victims. But it wont work on me. I know the fear I cause. I know it more than anyone else, and it is the thing I understand most of all. You cannot surprise me with something I already know.

"You think you know the fear you cause, but all you can comprehend is the tip of the iceberg. I can make you understand. I can instill so much terror into your heart that your physical form cannot take it. I did it to the thing that stole Sasha, I did it to the goddamn Distortion, and I can do it to you.

"The Ceaseless Watcher is on my side. You feed it and feed it and yet it has never liked you. Not when you were Jonah, not now that you wear the face of Elias Bouchard. The Watcher obeys my every command, it Knows I am on it's level. Every fear knows I am on it's level, and they cower before my wrath.

"So do you want to go the easy way, or the hard way?"

Elias looks actually scared now, but if he's anything it's incredibly stubborn. "And what do those options consist of?" He asks.

"Oh come on, Jonah, do I need to spell everything out for you?" The Archivist replies, rolling his eyes (all of them). "Either I smite you off the face of the Earth or I grab the knife in the bottom drawer and stab you until you've properly bled out. Both, I can assure you, are extremely painful. Or, well, I can't really speak for the smiting as I've personally never been killed that way before, but I can infer from the screaming."

"What!" Jon exclaims, unable to keep his confusion inaudible. The Archivist doesn't answer him, though, and keeps himself focused on Elias.

"If I stab you with Gertrude's old knife in the desk drawer, it's almost like she's getting her revenge, but if I smite you, you'll be killed by the one thing you ever pledged loyalty to. Oh, the choices, the choices. What do you think, Jon?"

Jon jumps in surprise. "Uh, well, I-uh, I suppose that, um... the knife might be a bit bloody?"

"Ah, you're right," the Archivist says, "It'd be a pain to get blood out of the carpet."

He turns to Elias, who's sweating bullets. "Are you ready, Jonah?" The Archivist says with a sick smile.

"Now, c'mon Jon, this is crazy," Elias says, "You wouldn't actually kill me, would you? Of course not! Spare me, spare me, please!"

The Archivist doesn't listen to him, and instead all his eyes glow brightly as he lifts slightly off the ground.  "Feel the horror you cause, the feelings you plunge into the hearts of others. Feel it. Suffer it," he says, spitting venom from his words, "Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this putrid excuse for a servant and drink your fill."

The room seems to warp and bounce around Jon, and he feels like he's going through a bad high. Elias is screaming, but his voice is distorted in his ears. He might be screaming, he doesn't know. There's a loud ringing following everything, until finally, the world seems to come to a halt.

"Holy shit," Jon whispers, seeing the scorch mark burnt into the carpet where Elias once stood. He feels the Archivist's eyes on him, and whips his head around to look at him. The extra eyes are closing and fading into faint scars and stretch marks.

"I'm not smiting you, Jon, I'm not an idiot," the Archivist says, "If I kill you, I cease to exist. And I'd really rather find my Martin before that happens."

With that, he walks out of the Archives.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Crossover AU: Sans’s Lion & Bubbled Monster Souls 

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

Credit for Deltarune & Undertale goes to Toby Fox

Credit for Steven Universe Series goes to Rebecca Sugar

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

while watching the episode where Lion first appears,

I got inspired to draw Lion as a Pink Skeleton with blue ethereal...?

I’m just gonna call it ethereal (I think it is a type of magic energy)

anyway like I was saying, Lion as a Pink Skeleton with a blue ethereal mane and even at the tip of his tail has the ethereal.

all the Monster Souls in Rose’s Room, are all the Monsters that were killed by Frisk, Sans bubbled them all and send them to Rose’s Room....which would technically be Steven’s and then Sans’s.

I was going to have the background be all black, but then I got the idea to have Lion in Rose’s Room.

the idea is that so long as the Souls remain in Sans’s Bubbles

they wont end up disappearing, and when Sans escape the Undertale Timeline and moved to the Deltarune Timeline,

he took his little brother, any other survivors and lastly

Lion and his Room that is known as “Rose’s Room”

like in a Steven Universe/Undertale/Deltarune Crossover AU.

Lion is kept instead and mostly keeps Papyrus company,

all while Sans is at work.

this version of Lion, when bring brought back to life a second time.

ends up getting a new ability, and that is being able to travel to different multiverses and AUs.

even to the place where Error-Sans & Ink-Sans normally hang out.

and maybe even where Core-Frisk is.

there could be different crossover versions of Lion,

at least I think there might be.

try picturing a Underfell version of Lion being really protective of Sans and any time Papyrus tries to make a grab for him or threatens him,

Lion would growl at him and hug Sans close to him in order to protect him from his Boss/Brother.

I still think if Sans and Steven are one in the same, then it is possible that how Steven become Sans can have different outcomes.

either he starting aging backwards when he is about to die,

and in his last moments he stops at the newborn age and he becomes a babybones and then is found by Mr & Mrs Wingdings

who adopt him, but also make him biologically related to them,

by taking each fragment of their souls and placing it into San’s Human Looking Soul which after the two fragments merge with San’s Human Soul, it transforms into a Monster Soul.

the Soul would also be “reborn” in a way, while still having traces of the Light Genetic Magical Makeup that makes up the Gem’s Essence.

as well as Steven’s Human Soul, which is now a Monster Soul.

it also has traces of Mr & Mrs Wingdings Genetic Magical DNA,

thanks to their two fragments being placed into Sans’s Soul,

and causing Sans to be fully reborn as a Monster and being reborn as Mr & Mrs Wingdings’s biological son, too.

I believe that the name “Wingdings”  

is actually Gaster’s Family Name, this would mean that Sans and Papyrus’s full names are:

Wingdings Sans and Wingdings Papyrus.

just like how some humans have their family names come first,

it can be the same for monsters too.

so if this is true, then “Gaster” would not be the family name

but would technically be Gaster’s given name when he was born.

Lion could of been with the Baby Steven when Gaster and his wife,

found them (at the same spot Asriel finds Chara)

but instead of just being a skeleton, Steven could of still been human,

but after he left beach city,

he ended up deciding to check out mount ebott

but accidentally fell and when Lion sensed he was in danger,

he went to go save him but it ended up being too late.

Steven was age fluxing from when he was 14, 17 and even to middle age and elderly age.....but at his final breath, his last age flux stop at newborn Steven.

that was when Gaster and his wife came into the picture,

and notice the Lion had what appeared to be a human baby.

Gaster picks up the baby and notice the heartbeat had stop,

and with much convincing from his wife, the two decide to place a fragment piece from both of their souls into the newborn.

which caused not only the baby to brought back to life,

but it also caused the baby to transform from a human

to a skeleton monster baby.

which bewildered and shocked Lion and the Two Married Wingdings.

Gaster and his Wife [Redacted] decide to take the baby and even the Lion, home with them.

Gaster being a Doctor, did some tests and found out that by reviving the human baby with fragments of their souls, it caused the human soul to change into a monster soul and even have the baby become “reborn” as the Biological Son of the two of them.

there can be different ways that Steven becomes Sans,

this idea is just one of them.

plus when Steven becomes Sans and is reborn thanks to his new biological parents: Mr & Mrs Wingdings.

it also made him biologically related to his brother Papyrus.

and if there is a Gaster Jr. (because of the whole Gaster being Papyrus and Sans’s Brother too.) aka “Aster”

so not to confuse him with Gaster Sr...

he would of been at home during the time when his parents found Steven who would then be reborn as his new little brother Sans.

Sans could still have his Gem Powers, and when Lion ends up dying again....the Lion is brought back as Skeleton Monster thanks to Sans’s tears.

Sans could of brought Lion back to life when he was no more than 2 years old.

during this time Sans hasn’t yet remembered his past life as Steven Quartz Universe.

but at some point when Papyrus was a baby, his memories started to flood back to him and he remembered everything.

from his trauma that started in his childhood (Steven Universe)

to the breaking point he had a few years later (Steven Universe Future)  

the only one he could talk to about it, would be the only one from his past still with him, and that would be Lion.

Sans’s Mom and Dad (Gaster and [Redact]) know very little about Steven’s past before he became their second son who they named “Sans”, all they know is that their magic and two fragments from each of their souls merged with his former human soul and brought him back to life and changed him from a human to a skeleton monster.

this version of Sans would end up having to move to the Deltarune Timeline, because the non-stop geno route that Frisk played through.

in the past resets, Sans didn’t think about saving everyone by placing their souls in bubbles, that is until he discovered he could

when he bubbled Papyrus’s Soul after Frisk killed him.

after figuring out that he could bubble monster souls,

Sans started to follow Frisk, and after they were finished killing a monster, Sans would then bubble them and send them to Rose’s Room.

any other monster that Frisk didn’t end up killing,

Sans would have them go into Lion’s Ethereal Mane.

knowing how Rose’s Room works, he knows it will likely try to make copies of the bubbled monster souls.

so in order to find them if they should get mixed up wit fake copies (that ends up being made by the room), Sans would have to use the new trick he learned, and that is using blue magic to grab at the souls.

if he tried to use the blue magic on a fake bubbled monster,

it wont react the same and will only burst into pink clouds.

he would then take the real bubbled monster souls

and place them in Lion’s Ethereal Mane.

when entering Lion’s new mane, at first glance it looks the same as how it was before, but now it is dark and the only thing that is the same is the two trees that belong to both Lion and Lars, as well as the small hill that has Rose’s belongings as well as the Portrait of Rose.

but the place is now in the Dark World/Void.

which means whenever someone goes in through Lion’s Ethereal Mane, their existence would be forgotten by the outside world.

the grass/hair/mane, could end up having the ability to have Darkners/Tulpa  not end up transform into inanimate objects as soon as they leave The Dark World/Void.

this can be because of the new magic of Lion’s Mane.

on one side that makes up Lars’s side, the grass and Lars’s tree are still pink, but has bits and pieces of blue leafs in the tree.

on Lion’s side, Lion’s tree is fully blue

and becoming what looks like a Echo Tree and the grass ends up being blue too. all being same color as Lion’s Ethereal Mane.

 even if Lars’s tree and grass hasn’t changed very much, it still ends up in the Dark World/Void.

if Lancer ends up finding that new place in the dark world,

he would end up finding the spot in the blue grass/mane

that would lead him outside, like he would end up falling out of Lion’s ethereal mane.

but he wouldn’t end up turning into a inanimate object but instead stays how he is.

so any darkner (Headcanon Name of Race “Tulpa” )

ends up finding that place with those two trees, where one side of the grass is pink and the other blue.

going through them and ending up popping out of Lion’s Ethereal Mane, will let them be able to keep the forms they had in the dark world/void.

not everyone has to agree about the whole Dark World being the Void and it has the power to make those outside it forget,

and only those who have been to the void will remember Kris and Susie if they end up going back there again in Chapter 3, cause the whole Noelle and Berdly being to the Dark World/Void,

and if they both are still in Alphys’s class, and Kris and Susie went to the Dark World/Void.

only Noelle and Berdly would remember them.

it would explain why there wasn’t a search party for those two

and no one seem all that worried about them.

at least not until they remembered them when they came back from the Dark World/Void.

it is possible when Kris and Susie ended up in the Dark World,

those in their world, still remembered them but at the same time as a hour past the memories of those two became foggy and when a few hours past the memories of them all but faded.

but if Noelle and Berdly have been to the Dark World/Void,

they wouldn’t be effected and would be immune, same would be for anyone else who might end up going to the Dark World/Void.

I don’t think Ralsei is Asriel, but could still end up being technically a creation of his.

but even if I and other fans had theories that Ralsei might be a bad guy, that might not be true for the real Ralsei that we meet in Chapter 1.

I believe the Ralsei we meet in Chapter 2, is a Fake and the real Ralsei is that Faux-Ralsei’s Prisoner and is being kept in a room we can’t get to yet.

another theory is that Ralsei is Flowey from one of the Geno Timeline from Undertale, when he ends up being killed by Frisk...

he doesn’t just cease to be, he ends up falling into the Dark World/Void and having a type of Amnesia, and when some of the essence of Asriel of Deltarune, entered into the dark world, it transformed that version of Flowey into Ralsei.

we know when Ralsei falls in battle, he at times will end up leaving behind just his hat and clothes, which makes you wonder what is under there and could it be dust?

it is likely Flowey is under there and whenever Ralsei falls in battle and there is nothing left of him but his hat and clothes, what is hiding in them might turn out to be Flowey.

that is just a theory after all.

anyway I’m going to go back to watching Steven Universe now.

see ya later and stay safe.                                    

[theonlygamergost]

Nature’s effect - Fd!Au

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay ctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

This fic was corrected by the lovely @im-default

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno started working at the local vivarium and finds out that nature can change and calm even the most hyperactive people, just like Tommy

I did a poll on the Fd!au server about who my next fic should be focused on and Techno/Tommy won, so here you have it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning! Swearing

Enjoy~

“I’m sure they’ll love the flowers! Thank you and have a nice day!” Camille waved the last customers off and started cleaning the counter of the rotten leaves and flowers that she had cut off the last order, Techno was kneeling in front of a shelf busy applying tags on products.

“Techno are you almost done with those?”

After saving some flowers from Wilbur’s room, Techno had taken a liking to tend plants and gardening in general, the local vivarium owner Camille had taught him many tips and tricks that made him a perfect employee for the job.

He was pretty hyped for his first day at work, well... it was more of a trial per se, it was a test to see how he would react to the human interactions and how fast he could get the hang of the profession, which went great in his opinion:

Camille was great at explaining how to take care of the plants and wrapping the pots for gifts, she was so elegant while she passed the ribbon around the wrapping paper Techno almost tripped by getting distracted while looking at her.

His job in the magic home of plants was pretty simple: water the plants that weren’t irrigated automatically, check for parasites, diseases, or rotten leaves, restock the expositive plants and help costumers for whatever they needed, and of course, if he didn’t know what to do, just call Camille or any other employee for help.

“You did great today Techno! The old couple you helped earlier seemed very satisfied!” Techno blushed at the compliment since he couldn’t handle them and ended up stuttering, “T-thank you…”

“There are still thirty minutes before we need to close… Are you free to stay a bit later? I can show you how the irrigators system works and where the shelves outside go when closing the shop” He froze as he took his phone out of his pocket.

There where multiple messages coming from none other than the gremlin, and the last three (out of probably twenty all saying “I am bored” and “Answer pig” ) where what caused the strong reaction:

Gremlin

YOu are working at the plant place, right?

Gremlin

Big P and Big W won’t be home till late

Gremlin

Im bored so im coming over

Oh no…

Oh no no no-

“Um... Camille? My brother is at home alone, can he wait for me here until I finish?” The kind girl did not hesitate for a moment, “Absolutely! Not many customers arrive this late so there will be no problem!” Techno released the breath he didn’t notice he was holding, texting angrily back at Tommy, cursing at him to wait until he answered before taking initiations.

Just after he learned how the irrigation system worked, a familiar red and white t-shirt popped into view, “If you want Techno, you can ask your brother to help you take care of the greenhouses, it’s an easy job and you said he was bored at home yes?” Techno nodded and thanked the owner of the vivarium, he walked up to Tommy, who as soon as he saw him, burst into a laugh.

“BWAHAHA!!! WHAT ARE YOU WEARING TECHNO?!” The pink-haired boy looked down at his outfit, which consisted of his school uniform, a pair of green rubber boots, and a cute green apron with a daisy onto it. “What are you laughing at Tommy?” his younger brother was holding his stomach, wiping a tear off of his eyes, “The apron! It’s so- Pffffff-!” Techno sighed, shaking his head, “You are an absolute child… Phil wears an apron when he cooks too and so does Tubbo when he is in art class! How is it funny to you?! It’s a simple piece of clothing!!!” He turned around hoping Tommy would follow, there was no way he was giving him a pair of scissors so a watering can should busy him enough to avoid boredness.

“Hey! I’m not a child! I’m a big man Technoblade you should know” he puffed his chest to look high and mighty, “And how do you not find aprons funny big T?! They are like a little skirt… ok fine ignore me then” noticing how Techno wasn’t turning around nor paying him attention, he followed him to the greenhouses in silence looking at the number of plants and flowers that were littered everywhere.

As soon as Techno stopped he handed Tommy a watering can full of water that he almost dropped, “WHOA- what the hell man?! This is heavy!” Ignoring his brother's complaints, he adjusted his glasses and grabbed a pair of scissors, “Water the third and fifth row, don’t get the leaves wet, pour it directly on the soil and-” Techno turned to face him, “Don’t make a lake in the pot, stop watering as soon as you made a slow circle around the plant” As soon as he finished talking, he kneeled in front of the first plant of the first row, leaving Tommy with a heavy watering can and overcomplicated instructions.

“Don’t make a lake and don’t do this a-and don’t do that gne gne gne… Ugh what a pain in the ass” Tommy started to do as Techno instructed, but as time went on, something in him changed, going from a grunting face and not caring if he poured too much water, to a more relaxed expression, softly moving the leaves aside so water wouldn’t get on them.

Techno didn’t notice this change at first since he was too focused on removing dead flowers and leaves, but when he looked up to check if the gremlin was doing ok, he stopped himself from talking when he noticed that Tommy was crouched down, holding a ladybug in his hands.

Techno smiled at the sight of his brother becoming calmer when in contact with nature, he was so cute…

Quickly snapping a picture and sliding his phone back in his pocket he walked up to him, kneeling as well. “What’cha looking at?”

Tommy didn’t bother looking at his brother, his eyes were fixated on the small bug, “A Ladybug… it has five spots… Does that mean it’s five years old?” Techno softly chuckled, “No, that’s a common misconception Tommy, the spots are to warn predators that they don’t taste good, a self-defense mechanism” Tommy looked up at Techno and back to the ladybug, “But why five?” the older brother spotted another one of the small creatures, he waited for it to walk on his finger and held it close to Tommy’s one, “It represents which species it is, look- they both have five spots, meaning they come from the same category” Tommy added nothing, too absorbed into admiring the small bug pacing around the palm of his hand, instead, Techno placed his one back on the plant, snipping away a molded leaf, “Farmers believe that if they find a ladybug with less than seven spots means that they’ll have a good harvest, the contrary if it has more than seven, it’s only a folk legend though” Tommy decided to follow suit and moved his hand closer to the plan, allowing the small red and black insect to go back on the plant it came from.

“C’mon, your watering can’s empty, let’s go fill it up” The blonde boy smiled and nodded, grabbing the empty plastic container and following his older brother, looking at the variety of flowers and plants the greenhouse sheltered.

The rest of the time spent tending to the plants was calm and relaxing, nature really changed Tommy since he didn’t say once that he was bored or he never tried to start an argument, he looked at peace watering the small plants, kneeling to smell the flowers and making sure they weren’t diseased.

“Do you want to cut off the brown leaves? You look like you want to look at the plants a bit closer, I can water the rest” Tommy was surprised when Techno held in front of him the pair of scissors, he hesitated for a second, making sure that his brother was confident in his decision, but all he got from Techno was a soft smile.

Tommy remained in this unusual state all the way back home, let’s say that this moment of… “peace” was ruined when Wilbur came home and showed Tommy the picture Techno took of him behind his back.

[blackberry-gingham]

This was kinda inspired by the previous anons request but could you write headcannons/imagines (whichever you think fits best) about being an actress and meeting their lad on the set of one of their movies/a movie

(Ok ik I have other requests waiting looong behind this one, but it's going to bug me if I don't do this first, so I'll post my next chronological request tomorrow instead of my usual every other dayish schedule! Thanks guys ❤️)

Honestly, the absolute MOOD™ of this gif has been on my mind for like all of the following imagines. Like the on periodt FLAVOR that actress is rocking, all done up and everything ?? John or [insert one of the other three] ob-sessed with you ?? Literally yes. So yeah, there's my overview lol, the rest is up to your imagination!

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! 😌

George

You meet George on your way to grab a little refreshment before your scene in between takes

You've got a nice little flute of wine, to calm the nerves of course, when suddenly you get bumped rather harshly from behind!

Luckily your drink spilled on the floor and not your nice costume, but still, you're about to give whomever it is a piece of your mind!!

You turn on a dime and come face to face with... Oh

There, only inches away, stands the George Harrison, with a mouthful of food, a wrapped up snack for later, and eyes wide as saucers

It's a race to see who can apologise first

While you over come your shock at nearly cursing out one of the stars of the show, he hurriedly chews and swallows the last of his snack

"I'm so sor-" "-eg your pardon!"

You overlap each other with your apologies, causing a similar scenario again as you both accept the other's apology

The two of you chuckle a bit at that

At this point, George feels like he's just now getting a good look at you

He wonders if you're a recent hire, bc otherwise he certainly would've noticed the most beautiful woman in the building before now

Suddenly a touch self conscious, he wipes the crumbs from the corners of his mouth and scrambles for a way to make small talk

It's not really his forte, you see

Luckily, you come in to save him

You cock your head to look at his napkin of snacks

"What have you got there?"

"Oh these? N-nothing, just some scones or something like that"

He crosses his arms behind his back, like he's embarrassed to be caught smuggling snacks

"Oh! Have you tried the cream cheese and raspberry ones? They're to die for!"

George loosens up a bit. He wouldn't have guessed you were something of a food fan too...

He brings around his napkin of goodies and unwraps it a bit for you to see

"I have actually, would you like one?"

You thank him and take one, savouring the flavor while he pops another into his mouth as well

"See, quite good! Although, I'd dare say mine are better"

You laugh, but George simply stares

"You bake?" He says through a mouthful of scone, eyes alight

Of course you confirm that you do indeed, and your cooking is fantastic too, thank you very much!

The two of you talk about some of your favorite treats to make and from there... Well, George is pretty sure he's met his soul mate

John

Now when you meet John, I think you approach him!

He's backstage taking a smoke

You'd think he's just having a quick break to relax before filming starts, but the way he's looking around, shifting his weight, and fiddling with his outfit says it all

Classic stage fright

You remember those days, but as a seasoned, successful actress, you've learned a few tips and tricks you think might help!

For one thing, getting to know more then just your co-stars is a bit of a relief

Plus, I mean... It's John Lennon! And have I mentioned you're a bit of a fan?

So you approach, completely unfazed, and poor old Lennon does a double take

Out of gentlemanly habit, he immediately puts out his dart when he sees you coming

You come right up and introduce yourself with a "how do you do"

Now at this point, normally he'd respond with a witty but dirty pick up line, but...

He can't tell if he's just not in the mood from his nerves or what, but he just can't bring himself to do it

Or maybe... Maybe there's just something about you?

It's not every day such a fetching woman approaches him without screaming her head off and begging for an autograph in the process

Besides, there's just this air of confidence about you that puts him at ease

You make it look so effortless too!

He wishes he could be like that...

John nods respectfully with a quiet "just fine thanks"

He doesn't bother to introduce himself, he simply assumes everyone here knows who he is

You tilt your head and smile invitingly

"Are you sure? Excuse me for saying so, but you seem a bit nervous"

Well, regarding the filming coming up, he was a bit, but standing here, talking with you?

He certainly is now!

"It's fine, just thinking about my lines and such"

You can tell he's lying, but you let the matter go to switch up tactics

"Well I'm sure you'll be just fine out ther- Oh? Hold on..."

You casually saunter up to him as though you've known him for years to straighten his tie and smooth down his lapels

Despite your boldness, John puts up no resistance. In fact, he finds he rather enjoys your touch

He's so use to a more... different sort of touch when it comes to women, to the point that he's nearly forgotten just how fulfilling soft and gentle contact like this can be

Forgetting himself, John leans into your palms a bit as you finish petting them across the chest of his suit

You definitely notice, but decide to have mercy and say nothing about it

"Just remember, if you need a little stage advice out there, I'll be around"

You wink at him and walk off to your dressing room

John waits a moment until your out of sight, weighing what just happened in his mind

You know what?

He smiles to himself and jogs after you

Maybe he does want some advice...

Paul

Now Paul I think is the one guy of the four to seek you out!

You're relaxing in your dressing room adding just a few small touch ups to your lipstick and so on until you're on

When the gentle knock comes to your door, you assume it's your assistant come to fetch you

You check the time and then hurry over to answer the door

"Yes yes, I-"

Paul is standing with his hands clasped behind his back, a respectful distance from your door

When he'd heard you were the leading lady of this film, he knew he simply had to see you in person

He's a bit of a fan himself you see, and he can tell you right now, the camera doesn't do you half justice

Paul's mouth forms a little "O" as he looks you up and down so quick, it's almost subtle

Not at all impressed, you look at him expectantly, but try to hold back any attitude

"Can I help you, Mr. McCartney?"

He snaps out of his daydream and at last looks at you with the respect you deserve

"Oh, my apologies love, I just wanted to greet my co-star!"

Paul gingerly takes your hand and kisses your knuckles

Alright, maybe you're a little impressed

"I've heard so much about you, I couldn't believe it when they told me you were going to be a part of our little film"

He laughs, and then clears his throat awkwardly

"Sorry, I guess I'm just something of a fan"

You're a bit taken aback to see Paul, the ladies man himself, McCartney acting flustered, but what a compliment for one of the Beatles to be a fan of you

Needless to say, you're nice about his being awkward and hang around for a little conversation

He tells you about all the movies he's seen you in and how wonderful a job he thought you did

You're really enjoying the moment, after all, what a rare one it is! Until your assistant comes to fetch you and Paul for filming

"Oh yes, we'll be right along!"

Paul calls after your assistant and more or less shoos them away

Once you two are alone again, Paul fidgets a moment fishing around in his pockets

"Now I know you get this a lot-"

He pulls out a newspaper article and a pen, then holds them out to you

Upon closer inspection, it's the headline from when you were recognized for your first acting award

"But could I please get your autograph?"

Then he leans in and whispers, "and please don't tell the lads..."

You laugh and assure him his secret is safe as you sign your name in flowing script before handing him his prize

Paul looks like a child in a candy shop, he's so excited

You smile sweetly and begin heading towards the filming site

Before you know it Paul trots up beside you, following close

He looks from you to his newspaper clipping once and then twice before his eyes linger on you

"You know, I have a record from one of your plays back at the hotel... Could you-?"

At first you shoot him a look, but the puppy eyes he's giving you assures you he means no funny business, so you promise him ❤️

Ringo

You meet Ringo backstage in between sets, right before your scene

And when I tell you the first time Ringo sees you, he immediately knows he would die for you...

!!! RINGO. IS. STAR STRUCK !!!

You're already gorgeous as is, so when his first time seeing you is all done up with your hair, outfit, and makeup for the movie he's just BLOWN AWAY

And as he should be 💅🏻

There's still a decent bit of time before he needs to take his place or anything like that, which is good bc his brain is in a whole other dimension rn

You're absolutely magnetic and all he can think to do is approach

"Oh, hello Mr. Starr! Can I help you?"

"hi"

You blink at him for a moment, not quite sure what's happening

But when it hits you, you quickly cover your mouth with a gloved hand, trying your very best not to laugh at the poor guy

Ringo however, is completely under your spell at the moment

"I uuuuh, I'm Ringo"

His big droopy eyes are absolutely transfixed in a dreamlike haze on your beautiful face, and he offers you his hand to shake

Now you're REALLY trying not to laugh

You give his hand a shake, brushing off any awkward feelings, and introduce yourself

Ringo repeats your name aloud, looking now as though he's been transported into a dream

That's your name? He loves that name! How did you know!

After a moment of awkward silence while you let him process, he thankfully seems to return to reality

"Ahem, sorry, I didn't mean to bother you"

He looks away quickly, now starting to realize he's made himself out to be quite the fool

"Well I feel rather silly, uh"

He scratches his neck and sneaks a glance up at you

Thankfully, you're very understanding! You have a lot of fans, and his behavior isn't quite unheard of in your experience

"Oh, no no! It's no trouble at all!"

You give a genuine laugh and tell him you're always glad to meet a fan

Ringo responds with a little humor to relieve any last traces of tension or awkwardness and then laughs his deep, goofy laugh

You contemplate what a strange but wonderful sound it is

And you know? wouldn't mind sticking around to hear it again...

Besides, he's clearly already very interested in you

That, and it's nice to meet a gentle soul amongst your fan base, rather then the clamoring men and women you're used to

Ringo smiles at you with pure admiration, before picking up some easy small talk with you, just as though you're anyone else

It's at that moment you officially fall for him

[avengershumanresources]

blood 10 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 9 - part 11

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

10 - a trick

Peter had Sam and Clint notify the guard. Natalia and James secured the Queen and Princess Morgan, and before anyone had time to breathe, Peter stormed Obadiah’s bedchamber.

The king woke with a start, opening his mouth to protest the interruption and stopping immediately when the tip of a sword went to his throat. 

“Is this supposed to be a coup?” he mocked while Peter marched him out of the bedroom toward the throne room. “You’re in over your head, boy.”

Peter didn’t reply, keeping his sword up until they were securely in the throne room where Wong, Steve, and Thor waited with crossed arms. 

“King Rumlow will not stand for this,” Obadiah’s confident tone faded once Peter shoved him forward. “Whatever you’re planning, you’re outnumbered.”

“Per the law, if the council feels the king is unfit, he may be removed in favor of the next in line,” Wong recited. 

“He’s not of age!” Obadiah spat but Steve looked between the men. 

“A few months?” he asked the group. “I saw the records say his birth was yesterday, 22 years to the day.” 

“It’ll be noted,” Wong hummed, the quartet watching the king for his next move. 

“Traitors-,” Obadiah threw a finger between the men accusingly. “Where’s Strange? Not man enough to face me himself?”

“Uncle, if you step down peacefully, you can live out your days unbothered at the border,” Peter offered tersely, watching the manic man for any sudden movements. “Please.”

“Ha!” Obadiah threw his head back, taking a few steps away from the group. “Do you honestly think I believe that? You’ll send that bitch assassin or the cripple missing an arm after me.”

Peter saw Steve tense at the insults, but maintained a firm tone with the disgraced king. 

“Please uncle,” he tried to reason. “There are many who wish to see you punished for your transgressions-.”

“Transgressions?” Obadiah spun on to him. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve tried to bring peace to the kingdom. I’ve broken no law.”

“You ordered the death of my father,” Peter stated, unflinchingly. He stated the older, larger man down. “The punishment for treason is death and I am giving you the option of survival.” 

Shouting was beginning to rise from the courtyard outside the throne room. Flickers of torches and the whinnying of horses soon meshed into the sounds. 

“The men who wish to see you dead far outnumber anyone loyal to you,” Steve warned, eyeing the lights through the stained glass. “You have nothing to offer Rumlow, there’s no guarantee he’ll be willing to waste the men on a lost cause.”

There was a there was a crash from the hall outside the locked throne room door. Swords clanged against once another and the shouting grew louder. 

Turning to the men, Obadiah smirked when someone began slamming against the door. 

“Are you certain of that, Peter?” he asked, his grin growing wider. “Don’t think I was blind to your schemes. I know all that goes on in this castle.” 

He rounded on Peter, a finger prodding the prince’s chest. 

“I heard all about the tavern meetings with the Asgardians and this pathetic attempt on my throne,” he glowered down at him. “I knew exactly why the Asgardians were here, a betrothal, don’t be stupid! I knew about that little slut too. Now she’s with her weak father... probably lamenting how I outsmarted them. You’re a fool, Peter, and you’ll hang for this.”

There was a stunned silence, all eyes falling on Peter, who’d backed away with Obadiah towering over him. Shouts and banging could still be heard from the halls, a group now trying to break down the door. 

All at once, Peter let out a furious yell. He grabbed the front of Obadiah’s sleeping gown with one hand, the other going for a dagger at his side. 

“Do you see this knife?” he snarled, pricking the tip against Obadiah’s neck to draw a single droplet of blood. “My sister used it to defend against that beast you’ve brought into my home. Do you know who gave it to her? One of the most dangerous criminals in the next two kingdoms, pray tell me, uncle- what do you think they will do to do if I don’t kill you now? The assassin who so trusted my beloved sister, he gave her a weapon to defend from you?”

“You’re going to lose.”

“What will they do, Obadiah-,” Peter dug the blade a little deeper into the kings skin, making the man squirm. “When the truth of her death comes out? When the truth of my fathers death? The longest reign of peace and economic prosperity in generations. What will the farmers, whose crops Rumlow burned under your orders, do to you?”

“Peter!” the door burst open and Wong grabbed Peter, teleporting him, Thor, and Steve away before Amora could blast the group. 

She rushed toward the king, hands glowing, while she skimmed him over for injury. 

“The queen and princess are gone,” she reported. “My king rallied his troops the moment he caught wise of what the prince was planning. Sir, he still commits his men to you, per your agreement.”

“No marriage?” Obadiah practically stammered out. 

“My grace, the specifics can be dealt with, should we survive this treacherous siege, now hold on,” she grabbed his wrist and teleported with a cloud of green smoke. 

(—)

“The princess was moved to the crypt,” Loki reported once he met Stephen in the courtyard, his troops readying to support the guard within the castle. “One of the priests heard wind of the siege and gave her a quick blessing before fleeing.” 

That wasn’t part of the plan.

Stephen had done his best to ensure you would have been removed from the stone coffin before you could risk suffocating. With an active battle, there was no guarantee when he could rescue you.

“I have to move her now,” he realized at Loki’s urgent implication. 

“Better now than when the castle is burning,” the prince replied snarkily. His attention was caught by a large flame in one of the guard towers. Obadiah had resisted.

It was time. 

“Go, before I go myself to avoid this barbaric carnage,” Loki pulled on his battle helmet and began to rally his men. 

Stephen didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly drew up a portal to the Stark family crypt below the castle. He raced to the newest section of the tomb, where your grandfather and your father’s empty coffin sat under a carving of your great-grandfather.

He ignited the torches with a wave of his hand, immediately spotting the recently disturbed stone tomb. Raising his palm, he blasted the lid of the entrapment, pushing the stone aside and summoning a light to better see inside. 

To his relief, you were there, arms folded over your chest, body tucked in a hastily wrapped funeral shroud. He ripped the cloth back, pulling your unconscious body out of the stone chamber and draping you over his lap on the ground. 

A quick check of his spell, and it was still holding. Your seidr was still concealed and you were still alive, just in a deep, charmed, sleep. 

He scooped you up, throwing open a portal to the chambers he’d prepared at his home, and quickly draped you onto the bed. 

Sensing his magic, Wanda stepped through her own portal, glancing up at her friend in concern. 

“It’s early,” she noted with a tilt of her head. 

“Obadiah didn’t surrender or attempt to negotiate. Brock joined the attack,” he explained. “The king needs to rally the troops here and notify our allies.”

Wanda gave a curt nod, disappearing as quickly as she’d appeared. 

He returned his attention to you, lightly touching the seidr seal on your wrist and ensuring the spell would hold while he was out of sight.

“I will return my love,” he vowed, tucking a strand of hair out of your face and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He double checked the wards around the bedroom a final time before opening a portal to Tony’s encampment within his estate grounds. 

(—)

“Peter, what’s happening?” Pepper demanded when the trio sudden appeared in her chambers. James and Natalia were both in their feet, awaiting further instructions. 

“Where’s Morgan?” he demanded, moving through the room until he located his baby sister in the old nursery attached to the suite. “We have to get the two of you to safety.”

“She wanted to sleep, James and Natalia told us to stay ready, but-,” Pepper hurried after him. “Peter, what is going on?”

“I’m removing Obadiah from the throne,” he stated matter of factly, scooping up Morgan and grabbing a cook off a nearby hook. “Brock is trying to help him, but our men far outnumber theirs. You and Morgan are being moved to Kamar-Taj for the night, then into the Asgardian keep.” 

“And the lords and ladies?” she stammered out, overwhelmed by his calm demeanor despite the screams and fires outside. She absently took her daughter when Peter passed her off, watching James and Natalia assemble a few more essentials into a small silk bag before passing it off to Peter. 

“Long evacuated, the men who wished to fight still remain,” Steve supplied. “Wong and myself will be accompanying you to Asgard. Queen Frigga will provide passage to Asgard once Brock’s troops are recalled from the border and Amora’s mystic boundary is broken.”

“Kamar-Taj has a prepared trunk for you,” Natalia explained softly. “I put it together with Peter a few weeks ago. It should have what you need until you reach Asgard.”

“What about the rest of you?” Pepper’s gaze feel on Peter. “What will you do?”

“I’m going to kill Brock and Obadiah,” he promised confidently. “Overcome and conquer.”

Pepper paused, reaching for his face and cradling his jaw with her palm. 

“Your father would be so proud,” she whispered, the brief spell broken when an explosion sounded in the courtyard. 

“Magic,” Wong confirmed. “Amora probably summoned her apprentices. We need to move to ensure we are not followed.”

“Be safe, my sweet son,” Pepper kissed his cheek and followed after Wong and Steve, Morgan tucked tightly in her arms. “I love you.”

“Goodbye mother,” he replied, watching the spot in the room until the portal snapped shut and he was left with Thor and the assassins. 

“What now?” James asked, peeking through the queens window nervously. 

“There’s a passage down the hall that should lead you to the armory. Through there, you should be able to reach Loki and our combined men. Mordo and Stephen have called for reinforcements from Kamar-Taj, and they should be able to fend off magic users while we handle the rest.”

“Asgardian forces will be here by dawn,” Thor promised. “With another wave due before nightfall.” 

“Obadiah won’t be missing for long,” Peter continued. “He’s a pig, but not a coward. He will want to oversee things in person, likely with Brock. That’s when we hit them and end this.”

“And Amora?” Natalia quirked a brow. 

“Leave that to Loki,” Thor muttered grimly. “He has a score to settle with the Enchantress.”

(—)

You jolted up with a gasp. 

The room was dark, but something unfamiliar about it sent the seidr in your veins prickling through the goosebumps on your skin. 

Reaching around, you swallowed anxiously. The bed was all wrong. The fabrics not the silks and cotton you’d grown up with. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, you realized you weren’t in your bed chambers at all. 

A yell and response outside the window had you scrambling to your feet, spying a number of fires burning in the dark sea of land outside whenever you now found yourself. 

Your groggy brain ran through its last memories. The assault. The conversation with Stephen. 

The sleeping draught. 

How powerful had it been?

You looked down at your hands, a faint glow of violet emitting from your hands and up your arms. You’d barely had time to examine it when the door to the room burst open. 

“You’re not supposed to be awake-,” Wanda stated, swooping on you and catching sight of the seidr. Eyes wide, she tried subduing the small bit of magic, but the moment the crimson tendrils tried touching the violet, the seidr grew brighter and spread more thoroughly over your body. 

“What is going on-?” You reached for your skirts and realized your dressing gown had been changed to a deep crimson formal gown. “Where is Stephen? Where is my home?”

“Princess,” Wanda reached for your hand, but the seidr snapped back at her and she pulled away. “I don’t know what’s happened. Stephen is... I can better explain...” 

She looked overwhelmed, her eyes constantly dropping to watch the raw power radiating off of you. 

“You’ve been asleep for two days, almost three nights,” she stated briskly, and you shook your head, frowning. 

“That’s impossible,” you whispered. 

“The sleeping potion Stephen gave you... it was to mimic the effects of death,” she continued softly. “We’re at the main keep for his family. Princess, the kingdom is at war.”

“Wanda, you were supposed to seal it, what’s taking so-,” Loki stopped in the doorway of the room. “Princess.”

He looked as bewildered as Wanda to see you standing and alert. And twice as concerned with the seidr energy coming from you. 

“That’s not good,” he stated bluntly. “Amora is going to see you like a beacon in the night.”

“Brock’s men have secured the castle already, if he knows she’s alive-,” Wanda agreed, speaking quickly and tersely with the prince. 

“Alive? Of course I’m-,” you paused. Mimic the effects of death. Eyes growing wide with realization as to what Stephen had done, you huffed a sigh. “Brock is still aligned with Obadiah?”

“It’s tentative,” Wanda replied. “But if his Stark bride is alive and well...”

“He’s already calling troops through the Kree empire, and the sea artillery is moving toward Asgardian waters,” Loki frowned, reaching forward and trying to calm your magic with his own. When it spat back at him like Wanda’s, his lips formed a thin line of concern. “Strange’s seal was so powerful I couldn’t sense it, so he isn’t holding right now because of the princess. There’s something else keeping him by Obadiah’s side. This will just soldifiy whatever deal they’ve struck. We need to figure out how to seal the seidr.”

“Could she just learn to control it?” Wanda offered. “I don’t think external means are going to suppress it much longer.”

“Wanda, how long did it take for you to learn to hide your own essence from enemies?” Loki pressed. “We need to locate Stephen.”

Eyes glowing, Wanda nodded and disappeared, presumably to retrieve the sorcerer in question.

“Loki, is my family-?” you started and he nodded. 

“Your mother and sister are in Asgard,” he replied. “Peter is...”

“He’s on the battlefield,” you finished with a knowing sigh. “Do we stand a chance?” 

“The Wakandans have mobilized and will be sending reinforcements soon,” he explained, gesturing for you to hold out the hand with the seal on your wrist. “Incredible. Your power... destroyed the rune. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The Wakandans have no loyalty to Peter,” you voiced, furrowing your brows. Are they aligned with Asgard?” 

“Well, no-,” he started. “They stand behind House Stark but, there is an important thing you should know now that you’re awake.”

He drew a portal, knowing her couldn’t teleport with your present state, and led you to what looked like a massive dining hall within the same building.

Hundreds of men were resting, some singing ballads and others sharing large bowls of stew and bread. 

You looked to Loki for explanation. 

Was Stephen hurt? Had your brother perished? 

He stood stoically, his gaze falling on the back of a man tending to an infantryman’s dressings. When he turned his head, you gasped and rushed over. 

“Father..?” you hesitated, his face was covered in mud, and he’d grown a large beard, but as soon as you saw his eyes, you knew. 

“Look who had risen from the grave,” he teased. “Welcome to the afterlife. It’s not quite what the priests suggested-.”

You cut him off, throwing your arms around his shoulders. 

“You’re alive,” you stammered in awe. “I... how? They say a pike went through your chest.”

“Oh, about that...” he touched the from of his chest. “Loki is a very skilled healer, and Wanda foresaw that particular complication... it’s a long story, best served for better conditions.”

“The seidr broke the potion’s effects,” Loki stated, looking down at the soldier and waving a hand over his bloodied wound. The wound was immediately cleaned and the soldier’s eyes drifted shut, his chest soon rising and falling in a peaceful sleep. “We’re trying to locate Stephen. Wanda and myself couldn’t interact with her.”

“I see,” Tony looked to you, eyes following the new elements of magic dancing lazily over your upper body. “Certainly the wards around the keep should continue to mask it?”

“For now,” Loki reported. “If Amora approaches too close, it could mean exposure.”

“You knew about all of this as well?” you looked to your father, still struggling to keep up with everything being said and plotted. She turned to Loki. “And you knew he was alive”

“And Wanda,” Loki added. “Natalia, and more recently, Stephen.”

“What?” you blinked in surprise. That wasn’t right. Stephen certainly would have told you. 

“We couldn’t risk Amora catching on,” your father quickly sensed your shift in emotion. “She was watching you because of your seidr, trying to tamper with your thoughts. You had to be left in the dark until we knew you were a safe distance from her.”

“Amora is a very powerful magic user who betrayed the trust of my mother and yours,” Loki informed you, his hand tensing at his side. “We couldn’t risk her getting ahead of our plans.”

“That’s going to go to waste if we can’t continue the charade you’re dead,” Tony clarified. “Brock is only barely allied with Obadiah. We have the numbers right now, but if he becomes serious about taking our kingdom, he and the Northern Kree far exceed our men, the Asgardians, the Wakandans, and the Southern Kree.”

“Your grace,” a blonde woman in knights armor approached and bowed her head. You noticed that the blood from the cuts on her cheeks was teal- a Kree. “King Odin is riding for us. He will be here within the hour, ready to provide more men.”

“Thank you Lady Carol,” Tony nodded while the female knight bowed and exited the room. Your eyes trailed after her in a dazed stupor. You’d never seen a female knight before. You’d read that the Kree society was more favorable to the female gender, but you never would have imagined the Kree would let a woman directly report to a king. 

“We need Frigga,” Tony sighed.

“We would have to ride to Asgard ourselves. The mystic boundary Amora out on the borders of too powerful, no one has been able to teleport or portal through it,” Loki grumbled. 

Tony cursed under his breath and stood, a hand on your back, guiding you through the mess of cots and soldiers. Some were injured, most were just worn from battle and resting until they were called upon again. 

Leading you and Loki out of the hall, Tony stopped once he was certain you were alone. 

“Only the sorcerers and myself are aware of your situation,” he murmured. “Peter and the queen are none the wiser. We need to keep you within the walls of this keep until Stephen is located and we have our next steps.”

“Can I help at all?” you asked, feeling more like a prized hen than someone who was useful. “I know some healing salves and wound mending?” 

“We can’t risk it,” Loki looked to Tony who was considering the suggestion. “One incident with the uncontrolled seidr and that could be the end of us.”

“My sweet, I’m sorry,” Tony pulled your head in and kissed the top of your hair. “It won’t be long until Stephen arrives and we can make a clearer decision.”

As if on cue, Wanda appeared, blood coating her hands and the dark robes she wore. 

“Stephen was injured in battle,” she explaine, Loki quickly teleporting with her without another word. 

“I bet he’s in the master suite,” your dad mused, a wink in your direction. “He has all of his potions and trinkets in there for emergency.”

You paused, hesitating between leaving your newly alive father, and being by your love’s side. 

“I’m needed in a war council,” he answered the dilemma. “We can catch up when the world isn’t burning around us.”

He gave your hand a final, reassuring, squeeze before giving you a quick layout of the keep. You thanked him, promised to keep him updated, and dashed down the halls. 

As you hurried, you felt your dress restricting your movements, and briefly considered trousers to be a more apt clothing option for the moment. 

It was when you felt the restriction around your legs disappear when you looked down and saw your clothes had shifted. Your crimson gown now crimson trousers, your corset a more reasonable bustier, and a cloth shirt tucked under a matching jacket with the Stark sigil subtly embroidered on the chest. 

Stopping in shock at the change, it occurred to you that the seidr had merely been responding to your mental requests.

That, you could get used to. No wonder Stephen and Loki were always ready for balls and events faster than you. 

You picked up your pace, rushing through the halls until you found the master suite exactly where your father had told you. 

A maid was shuffling out as you approached and you quietly slipped in, doing your best to ignore the blood saturated towels tucked under the maids arms. 

“It was a toxic arrow,” Wanda was explained to Loki. “It isn’t allowing the blood to coagulate properly. He’s going to bleed out.”

“I imagine Amora had something to do with this,” Loki murmured, glowing emerald hands hovering just over the gushing wound. “Strange. Stay with us. Stay awake.”

You were discarding your jacket and rolling up your sleeves, moving toward the makeshift apothecary stand while Stephen kept his eyes squeezed in pain.

“If she enchanted the poison or venom before applying it, we should be able to pull the toxins magically, right?” you recalled from a text you’d read during one of the long nights in the observatory. 

“I’m trying to, but I can’t detect any traces of magic in the wound,” Loki replied tensely.

“I tried isolating a few drops of his blood to detect any foreign components, but the poison is too powerful. It’s using the body’s defenses in its favor,” Wanda looked rattled, a far cry from her usual, composed, demeanor. “If we had more time, I know I could find the proper antidote, but he’s going to bleed out before then.”

Your fingers hovered over the herbs and elixirs, eyes shut while you considered their words and tried to recall the specifics of what you’d learned under his tutelage. 

“Is it actively poisoning his body, or just preventing the wound from clotting?” you asked, your finger twitched toward an herb used to create fiberous seals on wounds from cuts.

“Preventing the cut from sealing,” Wanda reported back, watching Loki try and fall to seal the wound magically. All the rags and bandages he piled ontop of the injury just continued to saturate through. “Bandages are not working. He’s bleeding through everything.”

“We need ice on the wound,” you called out, throwing the proper herbs and liquid into a mortar and pestle. “Shrink the blood vessels and slow the bleeding temporarily.”

Loki’s hand turned to ice and he pressed it on the skin around the injury. 

“It’s working,” Wanda called back.

“Clean the area,” you instructed, the paste now smooth and plentiful. You turned and searched the room for extra bandages, finding some by a pile of Stephen’s ripped and bloodied robes. 

You passed the remedy and bandages to the sorcerers at his bedside, knowing your seidr would prevent you from making close contact with him. The thought in itself breaking your heart. You wanted to wipe the sweat from his forehead, press a kiss to his hand and promise all would be well.

“Put the paste on the bandages and cover the wound. Keep applying the ice until we can get the bleeding to slow,” you watched Wanda move swiftly in tandem with Loki, pressing the seal to the injury and letting the prince take over applying pressure and ice. 

“Princess?” Stephen’s voice called, almost delirious.

“I’m here,” you moved within his eyesight, a smile thrown on your features to conceal your deep worry for him. “What did I tell you about getting shot with arrows, my love?”

“You never mentioned arrows,” he grunted, eyes opening briefly to take you in and closing when he winced in pain. “Next time be more- hngh- specific.”

“Next time don’t get shot,” you countered playfully, eyes falling to the white bandage at his abdomen. Ideally, only a little blood would be able to get through. It’d buy enough time for Loki and Wanda to find a better remedy without letting him bleed out. 

“It’s working,” Wanda announced, jumping and moving to the large library of books scattered around the room. Her hands began to glow, her fingers pulling texts off the shelves and discarding them almost as fast.

“Strange, were you injured anywhere else?” Loki asked tersely, eyeing a cut by the sorcerer’s eye. “We need seal all of your cuts, just in case.”

“Face,” Stephen replied after a pause. “Hands.” 

Loki got to work, smothering the bandages with the salve and covering the cuts. 

“Got it,” Wanda held up a book victoriously. “Antidote will take a few hours to prepare. Loki, you’re going to need to move to the front line. Let Peter and Thor know what is happening. I’ll make sure there’s enough for everyone afflicted.”

“I hadn’t heard any reports of similar circumstance,” Loki murmured, looking back down at the bandage to ensure it was still holding. “This seems personal.”

“To our favor then,” Wanda hummed, summoning her ingredients and moving quickly through the steps. “I will report this to King Anthony. Go.”

Loki disappeared with a flash of light, leaving only traces of smoke where he stood.

“You’re not supposed to be awake,” Stephen realized after you’d seated ourself next to him. 

“The seidr had other plans,” you noted softly. “Do not worry, we will address each problem as it’s necessary. You need to rest.”

“Wasn’t I just tell you that?” 

“Then listen to your own words, you do often boast of how good your own advice is,” you teased. 

He reached for your hand, but you pulled away, frowning apologetically at him. 

“The seidr is… it doesn’t like magic-users at the moment,” you explained quickly.

“That’s… unfortunate,” he mumbled, lolling his hand forward and staring up at the ceiling. “Ever the more reason not to die, I suppose.”

(—)

11- a battle cry 

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